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THE 


COURSE    OF    TIME. 


THE 

COURSE    OF    TIME, 

A  POEM,  IN  TEN  BOOKS. 

BY  ROBERT  POLLOK,  A.  M. 

TO  WHICH  ARE  PREFIXED, 
A    BKIEF 

MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 

AN 

ANALYSIS  OF  THE  POEM, 


INDEX 

TO  THE  PRINCIPAL  PASSAGES,    SENTIMENTS, 
OR  DESCRIPTIONS. 


CROCKER  . 

NEW  YORK  : — JCiiJI  I  UtHnHiji^mLADELPHIA  : — 
CUSHING   AND   JEWETT,  BALTIMORE. 


Stereotyped  at  the  BoBton  Type  and  Stereotype  Foandry. 

1828. 


i»4-»^/ 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  to  wit : 

Dist/ict  ClcrWs  Office. 

Be  it  remembered,  That  on  the  sixteenth  day  of  October,  A.  D 
1828,  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  Crocker  and  Brewster^  of  the  said  district,  have  deposited 
in  this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as  pro- 
prietors, in  the  words  following,  to  wit : 

"  The  Course  of  Time,  a  Poem,  in  ten  Books.  By  Robert  Pollok, 
A.  M.  To  which  are  prefixed,  a  brief  Memoir  of  the  Author,  an  Analysis 
of  the  Poem,  and  an  Index  to  the  principal  Passages,  Sentiments,  or 
Descriptions.    By  Rev.  William  Jenks,  D.  D." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  en- 
titled, "  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  tiio 
copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of 
such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;"  and  also  to  an  act, 
entitled,  "  An  Act  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled,  An  Act  for  the 
encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  ch.-irts, 
and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the 
times  therein  mentioned  j  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


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AN    ^\RGUMENT 


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PECTIVE    BOOK. 


The  interest  which  we  feel  in  any  literary  pro- 
duction is  easily  transferred  to  its  author.  And  if 
such  production  be  of  uncommon  character,  the 
desire  to  know  the  circumstances  which  distin- 
guished the  individual,  who  has  in  it  portrayed  the 
image  of  his  mind,  is  proportionally  strong.  Such 
curiosity  has  undoubtedly  been  felt  by  those  who 
have  perused  the  *  Course  of  Time.'  The  poem  is 
indeed  of  an  uncommon  character.  This  its  claim 
is  grounded  on  two  things — the  position  it  gives  the 
reader,  from  which  to  take  his  view  of  the  affairs 
of  time — and  its  simplicity,  freslmess,  and  freedom 
from  the  pedantry  and  common-place  of  mere 
learning. 

Before  introducing  the  following  brief  memoir,  a 
word  or  two  shall  be  said  on  these  characteristics. 
With  regard  to  the  former :  the  annunciation  of  the 


VI  MEMOIR    OF    THE    AUTHOR, 

title  which  the  poem  bears  is  apt,  at  first,  to  excite 
the  undefined  idea  of  the  concerns  of  the  world  in 
general  as  forming  its  subject.  We  speak  from 
experience,  having  found  tlie  perception  uncom- 
fortable, seemingly  indicating  a  design  to  make  up 
in  extent  of  matter  what  might  be  wanting  in  force 
of  thought,  or  power  of  minute  observation  and 
accurate  description.  But,  as  we  read  the  work, 
this  anticipation  vanishes.  We  find  ourselves  far 
advanced  in  the  measureless  course  of  Eternity 
itself;  and  are  taught  the  distant  transactions  of  a 
world  we  soon  recognise  as  our  own,  not  in  the 
didactic  strain  of  dull  moralizing,  but  in  the  ani- 
mated narrative  of  one,  who  had  been  an  observant 
actor,  deeply  and  holily  interested  #1  the  consum- 
mation. And  this  narrative  strain^s  continued 
through  the  work. 

The  latter  characteristic  feature,  of  freedom  from 
scholastic  and  literary  pedantry,  is  also  striking. 
The  Paradise  Lost,  for  instance,  cannot  be  fully 
relished  but  by  one  well  acquainted  with  the  my- 
thology of  the  ancient  polished  nations.  The  same 
is  true  of  several  other  invaluable  productions  of 
poetic  genius.  But  here  the  language  is  that  of 
one,  in  whom  the  idea  of  eternity  and  its  all-impor- 
tant interests  leaves  no  time  or  inclination  to  search 
for  recondite  allusions,  flowers  of  rhetoric,  or  learn- 
ed phraseology  The  author  seems  to  enjoy  a  holy, 
humble  intimacy  with  his  glorious  but  beloved 
Creator  and  Redeemer,  and  to  desire  and  labour 
that  the  same  views  and  feehngs  should  be  shared 
by  all  His  human  offspring.  This  must  render  the 
work  peculiarly  dear  to  all  such  as  draw  their  reli- 
gious views  simply  and  penitently  from  the  Bible. 
For  its  descriptions  of  the  character  and  conse- 


AND    ANALYSIS    OF    THE    POEM.  V 11 

queiices  of  sin  aiid  holiness  have  all  that  simplicity, 
directness  and  pungency,  which  belong  to  Divine 
Truth,  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  any 
two-edged  sivord — a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and 
intents  of  the  heart. 

With  these  remarks,  we  lay  before  the  reader  an 
account  of  tlie  author,  extracted  from  the  Christian 
Review,  an  English  periodical  pubhcation. 

*  The  Rev.  Robert  Pollok  was  born  at  Muir- 
house,  parish  of  Eaglesham,  in  North  Britain,  Octo- 
ber 19,  1798.  His  father  still  occupies  the  same 
farm,  and  is  esteemed  by  his  neighbours  as  a  very 
worthy  and  intelligent  person.  Robert  was  the  . 
youngest  of  the  family ;  and  his  early  days  were 
spent  on  the  farm  with  his  father,  in  such  labours 
as  the  seasons  called  for.  He  was  always  fond  of 
reading  ;  and  the  winter's  evenings  were  employed 
in  this  manner,  when  his  companions  were  perhaps 
engaged  in  some  trifling  amusement.  He  is  not 
known  to  have  made  any  attempts  at  poetry  when 
very  young.  At  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  com- 
menced the  study  of  the  Latin  language ;  and,  a 
few  months  after  this,  he  produced  the  first  poem 
which  he  is  known  to  have  committed  to  paper. 
In  October,  1815,  when  seventeen  years  of  age,  he 
entered  the  University  of  Glasgow,  where  he  studied 
five  years ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  obtained 
tlie  degree  of  Master  of  Arts.  While  at  college,  he 
was  a  very  diligent  and  exemplary  student,  and 
distinguished  himself  so  far  as  to  have  several  prizes 
awarded  him  by  the  suffrage  of  his  fellows :  be- 
sides the  regular  exercises,  he  composed  a  number 
for  his  own  pleasure  and  improvement,  and  several 
of  these  were  poetical.  Before  he  had  finished  his 
curriculum,  his  health  was  considerably  impaired. 


VIU  MEMOIR    OF    THE    AUTHOR, 

In  the  autumn  of  1822,  he  entered  the  United  Se- 
cession Divinity  Hall,  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Dick. 
Here  his  discourses  attracted  considerable  notice, 
and  called  forth  some  severe  criticisms  from  his 
fellow-students.  A  mind  hke  his  could  not  submit 
to  the  trammels  of  common  divisions :  the  form  of 
an  essay  suited  better  the  impetuosity  of  his  genius ; 
and  he  occasionally  indulged  in  lofty  descriptions, 
both  of  character  and  external  nature.  In  May, 
1827,  he  received  license  to  preach  from  the  United 
Secession  Presbytery  of  Edinburgh.  During  his  pre- 
vious trials,  he  was  employed  in  superintending  the 
printing  of  his  poem.  His  first  public  discourse  is 
said  to  have  produced  a  powerful  sensation  on  the 
audience.  The  text  was,  "  How  long  halt  ye  be- 
tween two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow 
him  ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him."  Some  de- 
scriptive parts,  respecting  those  who  serve  Baal 
rather  than  God,  are  said  to  have  been  awfully 
grand.  He  preached  only  three  other  times,  when 
he  was  obliged  to  retire  from  public  service.  His 
labours  had  been  too  great  for  his  constitution,  in 
which  the  seeds  of  consumption  had  long  before 
been  sown.  By  some  medical  gentlemen  of  emi- 
nence in  Edinburgh,  he  was  advised  to  try  the 
effects  of  a  warmer  climate  :  Italy  was  his  intended 
retreat ;  and,  after  providing  himself  with  letters  of 
introduction  to  some  learned  men  on  the  continent, 
he  set  out,  accompanied  by  a  sister.  He  had  got  as 
far  as  the  neighbourhood  of  Southampton,  when, 
overpowered  with  the  fatigues  of  travelhng,  he  was 
compelled  to  desist.  He  here  fevered,  and  after  a 
few  days  expired,  far  from  the  scenes  of  his  birth 
and  his  studies.  It  is  comforting  to  learn,  that  Mr. 
Pollok's  death  was  that  of  a  true  saint ;  his  last 


AND    ANALYSIS    OP   THE   POEM.  IX 

moments  being  characterized  by  patience,  resigna- 
tion and  faith. 

*  Mr.  Pollok's  mind  was  certainly  of  a  very  supe- 
rior character :  of  this  there  need  no  other  proof 
be  given  than  the  encomiums  which  his  "  Course 
of  Time"  has  called  forth — encomiums,  many  of 
them,  penned  before  his  death  was  known,  but 
which  did  not  appear  till  after  he  had  gone  beyond 
the  reach  of  earthly  applause.  His  habits  were 
those  of  a  close  student :  his  reading  was  extensive : 
he  could  converse  on  almost  every  subject :  he  had 
great  facility  in  composition ;  in  confirmation  of 
which,  he  is  said  to  have  written  nearly  a  thousand 
lines  weekly  of  the  last  four  books  of  the  "  Course 
of  Time."  The  poem,  as  a  whole,  was,  however, 
no  hasty  performance :  it  had  engaged  his  attention 
long.  His  college  acquaintances  could  perceive 
that  his  mind  was  not  wholly  devoted  to  the  busi- 
ness of  the  classes  ;  he  was  constantly  writing  or 
reading  on  other  subjects.  Having  his  time  wholly 
to  himself,  he  amassed  a  prodigious  store  of  ideas. 
It  was  his  custom  to  commit  to  the  flames,  every 
now  and  then,  a  great  number  of  papers.  He  had 
projected  a  prose  work  of  some  magnitude — a  re- 
view of  Literature  in  all  ages — designed  to  show 
that  hterature  must  stand  or  fall  in  proportion  as  it 
harmonizes  with  Scripture  Revelation.  But  death 
has  put  an  end  to  this,  as  to  many  other  projects.' 

We  now  proceed,  as  was  promised,  to  exhibit  an 
Argument  of  each  book,  forming  a  brief  Analysis 
of  the  poem. 

BOOK  I. 

A  solemn  invocation  of  Almighty  God  commen- 
ces, and  the  object  of  the  poem  is  stated,  to  describe 
B  * 


'  time  gone,  man's  second  birth,  his  final  doom,  the 
righteous  saved,  and  providence  approved.' 

Far  onward  in  eternity,  long  after  the  period  of 
the  doom  of  man  and  its  immediate  consequences, 
two  *sons  of  Paradise'  appear  in  discourse,  and 
looking  for  the  arrival  of  some  heavenly  messenger, 
or  stranger  from  one  of  the  many  worlds  which 
serve  as  seminaries  for  heaven.  At  length  they 
perceive  and  welcome  one  of  the  latter  character. 
He  explains  the  reason  of  an  anxious  concern  his 
countenance  manifests — he  had  desired,  when  ma- 
tured for  heaven,  and  on  his  flight  toward  it  from 
his  native  world  at  a  vast  distance,  to  explore  be- 
yond the  visible  creation  of  God.  He  had  seen 
abodes  of  awful  misery,  which  he  describes,  and 
now  asks  information  respecting  them.  The  youths 
introduce  him,  for  this  purpose,  to  an  ancient '  Bard 
of  Earth,'  now  in  bliss,  who  tells  him  the  place  he 
saw  is  hell,  shows  the  design  of  it,  and  of  certain 
appearances  in  it,  and  consents,  at  his  request,  to 
instruct  him  in  the  history  of  its  inhabitants,  and 
of  MAN. 

BOOK  II. 

The  *  heavenly  Bard'  describes  to  the  stranger 
the  Earth,  now  renewed,  where  Adam  and  his 
race,  of  whom  he  declares  himself  one,  had  for- 
merly dwelt — its  beauty  at  creation — and  God's 
formation  of  the  fii'st  human  pair.  Their  introduc- 
tion to  Eden  and  their  fall  by  sin  are  noticed.  The 
Divine  plan  of  Redemption,  which,  as  related,  ex- 
cites devout  admiration  in  the  auditors,  is  dwelt 
upon  and  explained  with  holy  rapture.  The  stran- 
ger compares  his  own  previous  thoughts  and  expe- 
rience with  th6  new  things  he  hears,  and  asks  if 


AND    ANALYSIS    OF    THE    POEM.  XI 

men  lost  not  their  reason  and  understanding  in 
their  fall.  The  Bard  describes  the  Bible  as  their 
guide,  its  contents,  design,  and  effects  in  those  who 
embraced  it ;  the  abuse  of  it  by  multitudes,  and  the 
various  monstrous  productions  of  error  and  sin — 
the  unfaithful  magistrate,  and  specially  the  unfaith- 
ful minister  of  rehgion,  *  saddest  among  the  damned.' 
He  dilates  on  the  vain  and  selfish  occupations  of 
men,  and  on  the  character  of  sin — of  that  pride  of 
heart  which  adores  self  and  rejects  God,  and  ripens 
the  soul  for  ruin,  proving  itself  to  be  madness,  pre- 
paring woes  for  the  resurrection. 

BOOK  III. 

The  mirror  of  Truth  described,  as  a  test  of  moral 
state  in  heaven.  The  Bible  its  resemblance  on 
earth,  although  much  neglected,  and  abandoned 
for  the  unsatisfying  pursuits  of  the  world.  These 
pursuits  more  largely  described.  Men  seek  happi- 
ness, but  forget  to  love  God,  truth  and  virtue,  and 
are  disappointed.  Vain  eflTorts  of  philosophy  to 
nurture  on  earth  a  plant  that  shall  afford  genuine 
happiness.  Holiness  alone  produces  this  precious 
fruit,  itself  being  the  genuine  tree  of  life,  replanted 
by  the  Son  of  God,  unseen  in  the  mists  of  sin  and 
folly.  The  cost  of  a  banquet  on  its  fruit.  Superior 
love  of  other  things — gold  preferred — sensual  pleas- 
ure— and  fame  and  notoriety  leading  to  infidel  ex- 
cesses. Wisdom  remonstrates  and  instructs,  as 
does  all  else,  but  with  little  effect.  Her  true  char- 
acter— how  misconceived  by  men.  Narrative  of 
one  of  the  race,  to  whom  mercy  is  shown  of  God — 
alluding,  it  would  seem,  to  the  amiable,  evangelic 
Cowper,     Lessons  read  to  men  by  Death,  and  be- 


Xll  MEMOIR   OF   THE    AUTHOR, 

lieved,  but  often  too  late.    Promise  of  a  brighter 
view  of  things,  in  the  Uves  and  hopes  of  the  pious. 

BOOK  IV. 

Description  of  human  pursuits  continued,  and  of 
God's  providence  with  men.  Lust  of  power,  a 
ruhng  passion — takes  often  the  name  of  Uberty — 
its  fruits — degenerates  into  tyranny.  Contrast  be- 
tween earthly  and  true  Christian  liberty,  or  freedom 
from  sin.  View  of  a  human  heart — its  mixture  of 
good  and  bad — the  Christian  warfare — and  its  issue. 
Rapturous  contemplation  of  redeeming  Mercy. 
Review  of  books.  Speculations  of  human  philos- 
ophy and  theology,  and  mysteries  of  the  Christian 
faith.  Unequal  distribution  of  earthly  things  in  the 
providence  of  God — ^riches,  poverty,  intellectual 
might  and  destitution  of  it — elucidated.  View  of 
an  eminently  gifted  poet,  of  noble  birth — alluding 
to  Byron.  Conclusion,  that  earthly  things  neither 
could  nor  were  intended  to  satisfy  the  immortal 
soul  of  man. 

BOOK  V. 

The  '  Bard,'  after  caUing  on  all  intellectual  beings 
to  praise  God,  and  descanting  on  the  indelible  char- 
acter of  fact,  redeems  his  promise  of  a  brighter 
view,  and  dwells  on  the  joys  of  time.  Satisfactions 
arising  from  natural  sweets,  tasted  sparingly,  and 
from  feelings  and  actions  of  moral  worth.  The 
morning  of  life — its  sensations — remembered  with 
fondness.  Love,  holy  and  approved  of  God.  Friend- 
ship— musing,  solitary  walks — investigation  of  in- 
tellectual subjects,  and  subjects  of  an  external 
nature,  interesting;   and  memory  of  all  pleasant, 


AND  ANALYSIS  OP  THE  POEM.  Xlll 

but  of  guilt.  Rest  after  labour,  joy  succeeding  sor- 
row, and  sometimes  accompanying  it,  render  the 
cup  of  life  palatable,  and  the  righteous  may  relish  it 
with  gratitude.  The  millennium.  Previous  corrup- 
tion of  men,  and  fulfilment  of  prophecy  in  the  fall 
of  the  spiritual  Babylon  and  accompanying  events. 
Happiness  of  the  succeeding  period  described. 

BOOK  VI. 

Close  of  the  millennium  narrated.  Eruption  of 
iniquities,  and  indications  of  approaching  wrath. 
Creation  apostrophized  in  anticipation  of  it.  Nearer 
view  of  the  transition  from  a  state  of  general  holi- 
ness to  the  maturity  of  sin.  Nature  sympathizes, 
and,  in  her  defects,  irregularities  and  convulsions, 
seems  preparing  for  dissolution.  No  reformation  of 
men,  however,  but  these  symptoms  are  neglected, 
or  a  philosophic  solution  sought.  Preparations  in 
heaven  for  vengeance,  while  Earth  is  ripening  to 
receive  it.  Here  the  narrative  is  interrupted  by  a 
call  to  worship.  View  of  the  employments  of  the 
blessed.  The  praises  of  Jehovah  sung.  The  stran- 
ger Divinely  welcomed. 

BOOK  VII. 

The  narrative  resumed,  and  Earth's  last  day  de- 
scribed. It  commences  without  sign  of  change ; 
men  employ  themselves  as  usual ;  review  of  these 
employments.  The  sun  is  suddenly  dark — all  na- 
ture pauses,  and  Time  is  declared  to  be  no  more. 
The  dead  are  summoned — they  arise,  and  the  living 
are  changed.  Effects  on  different  classes  and  indi- 
viduals.   Reunion  of  bodies  and  souls  described, 


XIV  MEMOIR    OF    THE    AUTHOR, 

and  dissolution  of  all  else  on  earth.  Survey  of  the 
condition  of  the  assembling  multitudes.  Death  apos- 
trophized, as  surrendering  all  his  victims — forever. 

BOOK  VIII. 

View  of  the  multitude  collected  for  judgment,  un- 
distinguished by  outward  pomp  or  badge  ;  the  moral 
character  alone  giving  distinction,  and  exhibiting  its 
vast  varieties.  Description  of  several  of  these,  and 
of  the  feehngs  of  individuals  of  different  character 
on  arriving  at  this  point  of  their  existence,  and 
waiting  the  manifestation  of  their  Judge.  As  the 
'  Bard'  continues  his  narrative,  the  stranger  states 
what  he  had  seen  in  the  abodes  of  misery,  and  asks 
if  men,  believing  in  coming  wo,  could  yet  deliberate- 
ly proceed  toward  it.  It  is  rephed,  that  they  did 
not  indeed  believe — as  having  never  inquired — or 
else  inquired  carelessly — and  trusted  to  something 
else  rather  than  God's  Word.  True  Faith  described, 
and  the  fatal  result  of  error  respecting  its  nature. 

BOOK  IX. 

Apostrophe  to  Religion,  whose  day  of  gracious 
reward  was  now  come.  The  '  Bard,'  having  before 
exhibited  the  wicked,  and  their  wretchedness  on 
rising  from  the  grave  to  judgment,  now  dwells  with 
delight,  although  hesitating  as  to  a  selection,  on  the 
respective  characters  of  the  good,  of  various  classes 
of  excellence.  Modest  worth  is  now  acknowledged, 
and  shines.  Effect  of  the  transition  from  Time  to 
Eternity  on  thought,  desire  and  anticipation.  At 
length,  a  host  of  angels  appearing,  the  whole  race 
is  raised  *  to  middle  air,'  and  separated,  the  good 


AND  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  POEM.       XV 

and  bad — to  mingle  no  more !  The  different  assem- 
blies now  described,  with  circumstances  peculiar  to 
each,  and  the  preparation  making  to  assign  them 
to  their  eternal  abodes — to  reap,  as  they  had  sown, 

BOOK  X:   and  last. 

Invocation  of  Almighty  God,  for  aid  to  exhibit 
the  momentous  subject  with  fidelity.  The  '  Bard' 
is  then  represented  as  resuming  his  narrative.  The 
silence  following  the  separation  of  tlie  good  and 
bad  is  now  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  innumera- 
ble hosts  and  crowds,  assembling,  from  all  quarters 
of  the  universe,  as  summoned,  to  behold  the  mercy 
and  justice  of  Jehovah.  He  communicates  to  the 
congregated  millions  of  His  holy  subjects  a  decla- 
ration of  His  conduct  and  designs  with  regard  to 
MAN,  whose  day  of  retribution  is  come  ;  and  Mes- 
siah proceeds  to  Judgment.  Description  of  the 
divided  multitudes  of  mankind,  at  His  coming. 
Sentence  pronounced.  The  wicked  driven  into  the 
abode  of  endless  wrath  and  misery,  increasing  in 
sin,  and  hence  in  punishment.  The  Earth  purged 
with  fire.  Accompanied  then  with  all  His  redeemed 
saints,  whom  He  approves  and  welcomes,  the  In- 
carnate, Omnipotent  God  re-ascends  to  Heaven. 


INDEX 


TO  THE  PRINCIPAL  PASSAGES,  SENTIMENTS, 
OR  DESCRIPTIONS. 


Pages. 

Actions,  and  facts,  iheir  indelible  character, 91,92. 

Adam,  Eve,  their  history, 16, 17. 

, ,  at  the  resurrection, 158, 159. 

Ambition,     127—130. 

Antiquary, 172. 

Assembly  of  mankind  for  Judgment,     ;  •  •  •  ^^^ — ^90. 

'-  —  the  inhabitants  of  the  universe  to  witness 

the  Judgment, 232—234. 

Babylon,  her  fall, 116, 117. 

*  Bard  of  Earth'  referred  to, 9. 

,  his  residence  described, 11. 

instructs  the  '  Stranger,' 12,  &,c. 

Believers,  at  tlie  resurrection,    212. 

Bible,  its  character,  use,  and  reception, 22— 27j  37,38. 

Bigotry,     173—175. 

Books  described,     77—79. 

Case  of  an  afflicted,  but  Divinely  compassionated  man,   62 — 65. 

a  man  of  genius,  the  late  Lord  Byron, 87 — 90. 

Change  of  the  living,  at  the  resurrection  of  tlie  dead,     149 — 152. 

Charity, 205—208. 

Church,  when  a  harlot, 114. 

,  consummated  in  holiness  and  beauty, 246. 

Conscience,  its  character  and  authority, 30. 

Consummation  of  sin  on  Eartli, 136. 

Crown  of  the  righteous, 218. 

Curse  of  God,  how  incurred, 57, 58. 

Day  of  Judgment  announced  by  conscience, 27. 

Death  despoiled  of  his  victims,     163—166. 

-bed,  its  lessons, 65, 66. 

Declaration  of  the  Divine  procedures  with  Man,  .  .  .  234 — 238. 

Defection  after  the  Millennium, 126—132. 

Disappointment, 61,62. 

Dreams, 107. 

Duellist, 183. 


XVm  INDEX. 

Pages. 

Earth,  described,    15, 16. 

,  her  innocent  pleasures, 92,  93. 

,  —  scenery,     103—105. 

,  arrested  for  Judgment, 148. 

,  purified  by  fire,  and  renewed, 243 — 245. 

Envy, 189, 190. 

Excellence  of  man,  where, 85. 

Faith,  what, 191—193. 

Faithful  Minister  of  God, 198—201. 

Fame,  object  of  human  pursuit,  its  vanity, 48 — 52. 

Free  man,  who,    . 72, 73. 

Freedom,  a  name  given  to  the  love  of  power,    69 — 72. 

Friendship, 99, 100. 

Gold,  object  of  human  desire,     43 — 45. 

Happiness,  the  pursuit  of  men, 38. 

,  where, 94,  95. 

Heart — of  a  Christiein — described, 73—76. 

Heavenly  employments,     137 — 140. 

Hell  described,     5—8  -,  12. 

Honour,  so  called, 183, 184. 

Humble,  their  estimation,    212,213. 

Hypocrite, 184, 185. 

Indolent, 175, 176. 

Intimations  of  the  final  catastrophe  of  Earth, 126 — 132. 

Invocation  of  Almighty  God, l,2j  229—231. 

Religion, 195, 197. 

Joy,  in  grief, 108. 

Judgment  pronounced, 240,241. 

Kings,  their  distinctions  forg-otten  at  the  resurrection,   ...   156. 
,  servants  of  ttie  public,  their  august  character,    .  .  .   204. 

Liar, 182, 183. 

Liberty,  genuine,  found  only  in  a  Christian  heart, 72. 

Literary  mdolence, 129, 130. 

Love,  Divine,  adored,     77. 

,  youthful,  described,    97—99. 

Lunacy, 180. 

Luxury, 147. 

Man,  how  formed, , 16. 

, reported  of  in  other  worlds, 19. 

of  fashion, 177, 178. 

Merit,  human, 22. 

Messiah  addressed, 238, 239. 

appears  for  Judgment, 239, 240. 

Millennium, 113—121. 


INDEX.  XIX 

Pa£C<.s. 

Mirror  of  Tmtli  in  heaven^, 37. 

Missionaries  of  the  Gospel, 159 — 161. 

Morn  of  life,  its  delights, 95. 

Mother,  dying, 110,  HI. 

Mount  of  God, o. 

Mystery  in  the  human  couditioji, 79 — 81, 

Christian  faith, 81,  8<2. 

Providence, 82^87. 

Novels,  what, 78. 

Ocean,  relinquishing  its  dead, IGl — 163. 

Paradise  described, 3. 

Period  assigned  to  tlie  Poem, 2. 

Philosopher,  worldly, 171, 172. 

-,  true, 201—204. 

Philosophy,  her  efforts, 38, 39. 

'-,  compared  with  Poetry, 209. 

Pleasure,  worldly,  described, 45 — 48. 

Poet,  the  true,    .' 208—211. 

Pov-erty,  and  its  evils, 84. 

Pride,  grand  cause  of  sin, -.    34^-36. 

Priest,  unfaithful,  character  and  doom,  ....   30—325  187, 188. 

Prison-house,  how  altered  in  the  millennium, 118. 

Prophecy  fulfilled, 215, 216. 

Pursuits  of  time, 33',  52—54.;  102,103;  146,147. 

Recluse, 172, 173. 

Redemption,  its  plan, 18, 19. 

,  studied  in  heaven, 34. 

commemorated, 20. 

reaches  not  hell, 243. 

Religion,    . 195—197. 

Remembrances  on  earth, 105,106;  111. 

Remorse,     61. 

Reputation, 185, 186. 

Rest, 106. 

Resurrection  of  the  dead,  .*.  .  ' 152—163. 

Righteous,  tlieir  earthly  joys, Ill — 113. 

— ,  received  to  bliss, 245, 246. 

Rulers,  seeking  public  good,  their  reward, ;  .  .  .   204. 

Sad  sights, 224—226. 

Satan,     219—224. 

Sceptic, 177. 

Seduction,     180—182. 

Separation  of  the  good  and  evil, 217,218. 

Slander, 186, 187. 

Slave-master,     215. 

Sloth, 127—130. 

Song  of  praise  to  God, 140—142 


XX  INDEX. 

Pages. 

Statesmen,  heroes,  rulers,  tlie  true,    204, 205. 

^  Stranger '  arrives  in  Heaven, 3. 

relates  his  visit  to  the  abodes  of  misery,   ....  5 — 9. 

conducted  to  the  '  Bard,' 11. 

Divinely  welcomed, 143. 

Suicide,    183. 

Theatre. 131, 132. 

Tree  of  iioliness  described. 39 — 42. 

Truth,  felt  at  the  resurrection, 214, 215. 

Unbelief, 191, 193. 

Vengeance  preparing  for  sin,     .'  123 — 126. 

Virtue  attracted  to  God,     5. 

,  her  imag-e  in  hell, 12, 13. 

'I'rue  Liberty  her  first-bom, 72. 

,  her  place  on  earth,     75. 

imperfect  in  man, 76. 

Virtuous  wife, 179, 180. 

Walk,  lonely, 100—102. 

Wicked,  cause  of  their  lamenting- in  hell, 21, 

,  described,  after  separation  fi^om  the  good,    .  .  218, 219. 

Widow,     : 108, 109. 

Wisdom,  her  admonitions,     64,  &c. 

,  —  character, 58, 59. 

Wise  man,  how  estimated  by  the  Bible  and  by  the  world,  59—61. 

Woman  of  fashion,     178, 179. 

Wrath  executed  on  the  wicked, 241—243. 

Youths  of  Paradise  receive  the  '  Stranger/  and  con- 
duct him  to  the  ^Bard,' 2, 3 5  10. 


[TJiriVBRSIT? 

COURSE   OF  TIME. 


BOOK  I. 


Eternal  Spirit  !  God  of  truth  !  to  whom. 
All  things  seem  as  they  are  ;  Thou,  who  of  old 
The  prophet's  eye  unsealed,  that  nightly  saw, 
While  heavy  sleep  fell  down  on  other  men, 
In  holy  vision  tranced,  the  future  pass 
Before  him,  and  to  Judah's  harp  attuned 
Burdens  which  made  the  pagan  mountains  shake, 
And  Zion's  cedars  bow, — inspire  my  song ; 
My  eye  unscale  ;  me  what  is  substance  teach, 
And  shadow  what,  while  I  of  things  to  come, 
As  past,  rehearsing,  sing  the  Course  of  Time, 
The  second  birth,  and  final  doom  of  man. 

The  muse,  that  soft  and  sickly  wooes  the  ear 
Of  love,  or  chanting  loud  in  windy  rhym« 
Of  fabled  hero,  raves  through  gaudy  tale 
Not  overfraught  with  sense,  I  ask  not:  such 
A  strain  befits  not  argument  so  high. 
Me  thought,  and  phrase  severely  sifting  out 
The  whole  idea,  grant,  uttering  as  'tis 
The  essential  truth — time  gone,  the  righteous  saved, 
The  wicked  damned,  and  providence  approved. 

Hold  my  right  hand,  Almighty  !  and  me  teach 
To  strike  the  lyre,  but  seldom  struck,  to  notes 
1 


2  ^    THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Harmonious  with  the  morning  stars,  and  pure 
As  those  by  sainted  bards  and  angels  sung, 
Which  wake  the  echoes  of  Eternity ; 
That  fools  may  hear  and  tremble,  and  the  wise, 
Instructed,  listen,  of  ages  yet  to  come. 

Long  was  the  day,  so  long  expected,  past 
Of  the  eternal  doom,  that  gave  to  each 
Of  all  the  human  race  his  due  reward. 
The  sun,  earth's  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars,  had  ceased 
To  number  seasons,  days,  and  months,  and  years 
To  mortal  man.     Hope  was  forgotten,  and  fear : 
And  time,  with  all  its  chance,  and  change,  and  smiles, 
And  frequent  tears,  and  deeds  of  villany, 
Or  righteousness,  once  talked  of  much,  as  things 
Of  great  renown,  was  now  but  ill  remembered  ', 
In  dim  and  shadowy  vision  of  the  past 
Seen  far  remote,  as  country,  which  has  left 
The  traveller's  speedy  step,  retiring  back 
From  morn  till  even ;  and  long  Eternity 
Had  rolled  his  mighty  years,  and  with  his  years 
Men  had  grown  old.     The  saints,  all  home  returned 
From  pilgrimage,  and  war,  and  weeping,  long 
Had  rested  in  the  bowers  of  peace,  that  skirt 
The  stream  of  life  ;  and  long — alas,  how  long 
To  them  it  seemed  1 — the  wicked,  who  refused 
To  be  redeemed,  had  wandered  in  the  dark 
Of  hell's  despair,  and  drunk  the  burning  cup 
Their  sins  had  filled  with  everlasting  wo. 

Thus  far  the  years  had  rolled,  which  none  but  God 
Doth  number,  when  two  sons,  two  youthful  sons 
Of  Paradise,  in  conversation  sweet, — 
For  thus  the  heavenly  muse  instructs  me,  wooed 
At  midnight  hour  with  offering  sincere 
Of  all  the  heart,  poured  out  in  holy  prayer, — 
High  on  the  hills  of  immortality, 
Whence  goodliest  prospect  looks  beyond  the  walls 


Of  heaven,  walked,  casting  oft  their  eye  far  through 

The  pure  serene,  observant  if,  returned 

From  errand  duly  finished,  any  came, 

Or  any,  first  in  virtue  now  complete, 

From  other  worlds  arrived,  confirmed  in  good. 

Thus  viewing,  one  they  saw,  on  hasty  wing 
Directing  towards  heaven  his  course  ;  and  now, 
His  flight  ascending  near  the  battlements 
And  lofty  hills  on  which  they  walked,  approached. 
For  round  and  round,  in  spacious  circuit  wide, 
Mountains  of  tallest  stature  circumscribe 
The  plains  of  Paradise,  whose  tops,  arrayed 
In  uncreated  radiance,  seem  so  pure. 
That  naught  but  angel's  foot,  or  saint's,  elect 
Of  God,  may  venture  there  to  walk.     Here  oft 
The  sons  of  bliss  take  morn  or  evening  pastime, 
Delighted  to  behold  ten  thousand  worlds 
Around  their  suns  revolving  in  the  vast 
External  space,  or  listen  the  harmonies 
That  each  to  other  in  its  motion  sings. 
And  hence,  in  middle  heaven  remote,  is  seen 
The  mount  of  God  in  awful  glory  bright. 
Within,  no  orb  create  of  moon,  or  star, 
Or  sun,  gives  hght ;  for  God's  own  countenance, 
Beaming  eternally,  gives  light  to  all. 
But  farther  than  these  sacred  hills,  his  will 
Forbids  its  flow,  too  bright  for  eyes  beyond. 
This  is  the  last  ascent  of  Virtue ;  here 
All  trial  ends,  and  hope  ;  here  perfect  joy, 
With  perfect  righteousness,  which  to  these  heights 
Alone  can  rise,  begins,  above  all  fall. 

And  now,  on  wing  of  holy  ardour  strong, 
Hither  ascends  the  stranger,  borne  upright, — 
For  stranger  he  did  seem,  with  curious  eye 
Of  nice  inspection  round  surveying  all, — 
And  at  the  feet  alights  of  those  that  stood 


*  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

His  coming,  who  the  hand  of  welcome  gave, 
And  the  embrace  sincere  of  holy  love  ; 
And  thus,  with  comely  greeting  kind,  began. 

Hail,  brother  !  hail,  thou  son  of  happiness, 
Thou  son  beloved  of  God,  welcome  to  heaven, 
To  bliss  that  never  fades  !  thy  day  is  past 
Of  trial,  and  of  fear  to  fall.     Well  done, 
Thou  good  and  faithful  servant ;  enter  now 
Into  the  joy  eternal  of  thy  Lord. 
Come  with  us,  and  behold  far  higher  sight 
Than  e'er  thy  heart  desired,  or  hope  conceived. 
See,  yonder  is  the  glorious  hill  of  God, 
'Bove  angel's  gaze  in  brightness  rising  high. 
Come,  join  our  wing,  and  we  will  guide  thy  flight 
To  mysteries  of  everlasting  bliss, 
The  tree,  and  fount  of  life,  the  eternal  throne, 
And  presence-chamber  of  the  King  of  kings. 
But  what  concern  hangs  on  thy  countenance, 
Unwont  within  this  place  .''   Perhaps  thou  deemst 
Thyself  unworthy  to  be  brought  before 
The  always  Ancient  One  .''  So  are  we  too 
Unworthy  ;  but  our  God  is  all  in  all. 
And  gives  us  boldness  to  approach  his  throne. 

Sons  of  the  Highest !  citizens  of  heaven  ! 
Began  the  new  arrived,  right  have  ye  judged : 
Unworthy,  most  unworthy  is  your  servant, 
To  stand  in  presence  of  the  King,  or  hold 
Most  distant  and  most  humble  place  in  this 
Abode  of  excellent  glory  unrevealed. 
But  God  Almighty  be  for  ever  praised, 
Who,  of  his  fulness,  fills  me  with  all  grace 
And  ornament,  to  make  me  in  his  sight 
Well  pleasing,  and  accepted  in  his  court. 
B  it,  if  your  leisure  waits,  short  narrative 
Will  tell,  why  strange  concern  thus  overhangs 
My  face,  ill  seeming  here  j  and  haply,  too, 


UB/f> 


BOOK   I. 

Your  elder  knowledge  can  instruct  my  youth, 
Of  what  seems  dark  and  doubtful,  unexplained. 

Our  leisure  waits  thee.    Speak ;  and  what  wej 
Delighted  most  to  give  delight,  we  will ; 
Though  much  of  mystery  yet  to  us  rem^^CV,  O  *»    *-  •  "  m /^ 

OF  THB 

Virtue,  I  need  not  tell,  when  provijarmiijfMlTT  T?  *D  ^  ' 
Matured,  inclines  us  up  to  God  and  IJBaf  efly  •    ▼    ^^  ^^ 
By  law  of  sweet  compulsion  strong  aMSj^^  ^     OB*  ^ 

As  gravitation  to  the  larger  orb  ^^^  ^  JP01B»^ 

The  less  attracts,  through  matter's  whole  <         * 
Virtue  in  me  was  ripe.     I  speak  not  this 
In  boast ;  for  what  I  am  to  God  I  owe. 
Entirely  owe,  and  of  myself  am  naught. 
Equipped  and  bent  for  heaven,  I  left  yon  world, 
My  native  seat,  which  scarce  your  eye  can  reach, 
Rolling  around  her  central  sun,  far  out. 
On  utmost  verge  of  light.     But  first,  to  see 
"What  lay  beyond  the  visible  creation, 
Strong  curiosity  my  flight  impelled. 
Long  was  my  way,  and  strange.     I  passed  the  bounds 
Which  God  doth  set  to  light,  and  life,  and  love ; 
Where  darkness  meets  with  day,  where  order  meets 
Disorder,  dreadful,  waste,  and  wild  ;  and  down 
The  dark,  eternal,  uncreated  night 
Ventured  alone.     Long,  long  on  rapid  wing, 
I  sailed  through  empty,  nameless  regions  vast, 
Where  utter  Nothing  dwells,  unformed  and  void. 
There  neither  eye,  nor  ear,  nor  any  sense 
Of  being  most  acute,  finds  object;  there 
For  aught  external  still  you  search  in  vain. 
Try  touch,  or  sight,  or  smell ;  try  what  you  will, 
You  strangely  find  naught  but  yourself  alone. 
But  why  should  I  in  words  attempt  to  tell 
What  that  is  like,  which  is,  and  yet  is  not  ? 
This  passed,  my  path  descending  led  me  still 
O'er  unclaimed  continents  of  desert  gloom 
1* 


6  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Immense,  where  gravitation  shifting  turns 

The  other  way ;  and  to  some  dread,  unknown, 

Infernal  centre  downward  weighs  :  and  now, — 

Far  travelled  from  the  edge  of  darkness,  far 

As  from  that  glorious  mount  of  God  to  light's 

Remotest  limb, — dire  sights  I  saw,  dire  sounds 

i  heard ;  and  suddenly  before  my  eye 

A  wall  of  fiery  adamant  sprung  up, 

Wall  mountainous,  tremendous,  flaming  high 

Above  all  flight  of  hope.     I  paused,  and  looked; 

And  saw,  where'er  I  looked  upon  that  mound, 

Sad  figures  traced  in  fire^  not  motionless, 

But  imitating  life.     One  I  remarked 

Attentively  ;  but  how  shall  I  describe 

What  naught  resembles  else  my  eye  hath  seen.'* 

Of  worm  or  serpent  kind  it  something  looked. 

But  monstrous,  with  a  thousand  snaky  heads, 

Eyed  each  with  double  orbs  of  glaring  wrath  ; 

And  with  as  many  tails,  that  twisted  out 

In  horrid  revolution,  tipped  with  stings  ; 

And  all  its  mouths,  that  wide  and  darkly  gaped. 

And  breathed  most  poisonous  breath,  had  each  a  stmg 

Forked,  and  long,  and  venomous,  and  sharp ; 

And,  in  its  writhings  infinite,  it  grasped 

Malignantly  what  seemed  a  heart,  swollen,  black, 

And  quivering  with  torture  most  intense  ; 

And  still  the  heart,  with  anguish  throbbing  high, 

Made  effort  to  escape,  but  could  not ;  for, 

Howe'er  it  turned,  and  oft  it  vainly  turned, 

These  complicated  foldings  held  it  fast. 

And  still  the  monstrous  beast  with  sting  of  head 

Or  tail  transpierced  it,  bleeding  evermore. 

What  this  could  image,  much  I  searched  to  know , 

And  while  I  stood,  and  gazed,  and  wondered  long, 

A  voice,  from  whence  I  knew  not,  for  no  one 

I  saw,  distinctly  whispered  in  my  ear 

iThese  words  :  This  is  the  Worm  that  never  dies. 


BOOK    I. 

Fast  by  the  side  of  this  unsightly  thing 
Another  was  portrayed,  more  hideous  still : 
Who  sees  it  once  shall  wish  to  see't  no  more. 
For  ever  undescribed  let  it  remain  ! 
Only  this  much  I  may  or  can  unfold. 
Far  out  it  thrust  a  dart  that  might  have  made 
The  knees  of  terror  quake,  and  on  it  hung, 
Within  the  triple  barbs,  a  being  pierced 
Through  soul  and  body  both.     Of  heavenly  make 
Original  the  being  seemed,  but  fallen, 
And  worn  and  wasted  with  enormous  wo. 
And  still  around  the  everlasting  lance. 
It  writhed,  convulsed,  and  uttered  mimic  groans ; 
And  tried  and  wished,  and  ever  tried  and  wished 
To  die  ;  but  could  not  die.    Oh,  horrid  sight ! 
I  trembhng  gazed,  and  listened,  and  heard' this  voice 
Approach  ray  ear :  This  is  Eternal  Death. 

Nor  these  alone.     Upon  that  burning  wall, 
In  horrible  emblazonry,  were  limned 
All  shapes,  all  forms,  all  modes  of  wretchedness. 
And  agony,  and  grief,  and  desperate  wo. 
And  prominent  in  characters  of  fire. 
Where'er  the  eye  could  light,  these  words  you  read : 
"  Who  comes  this  way,  behold,  and  fear  to  sin  !" 
Amazed  I  stood ;  and  thought  such  imagery 
Foretokened,  within,  a  dangerous  abode. 
But  yet  to  see  the  worst  a  wish  arose. 
For  virtue,  by  the  holy  seal  of  God 
Accredited  and  stamped,  immortal  all, 
And  all  invulnerable,  fears  no  hurt. 
As  easy  as  my  wish,  as  rapidly, 
I  through  the  horrid  rampart  passed,  unscathed 
And  unopposed  ;  and,  poised  on  steady  wing, 
I  hovering  gazed.     Eternal  Justice  !  sons 
Of  God  !  tell  me,  if  ye  can  tell,  what  then 
I  saw,  what  then  I  heard.    Wide  was  the  place, 
And  deep  as  wide,  and  ruinous  as  deep. 


8  THE    COURSE    OP  TIME. 

Beneath,  I  saw  a  lake  of  burning  fire, 

With  tempest  tost  perpetually,  and  still 

The  waves  of  fiery  darkness  'gainst  the  rocks 

Of  dark  damnation  broke,  and  music  made 

Of  melancholy  sort ;  and  over  head. 

And  all  around,  wind  warred  with  wind,  storm  howled 

To  storm,  and  lightning  forked  lightning  crossed. 

And  thunder  answered  thunder,  muttering  sounds 

Of  sullen  wrath ;  and  far  as  sight  could  pierce, 

Or  down  descend  in  caves  of  hopeless  depth, 

Through  all  that  dungeon  of  unfading  fire, 

I  saw  most  miserable  beings  walk. 

Burning  continually,  yet  unconsumed ; 

For  ever  wasting,  yet  enduring  still  j 

Dying  perpetually,  yet  never  dead. 

Some  wandered  lonely  in  the  desert  flames, 

And  some  in  fell  encounter  fiercely  met. 

With  curses  loud,  and  blasphemies,  that  made 

The  cheek  of  darkness  pale ;  and  as  they  fought. 

And  cursed,  and  gnashed  their  teeth,  and  wished  to  die, 

Their  hollow  eyes  did  utter  streams  of  wo. 

And  there  were  groans  that  ended  not,  and  sighs 

That  always  sighed,  and  tears  that  ever  wept, 

And  ever  fell,  but  not  in  Mercy's  sight. 

And  Sorrow,  and  Repentance,  and  Despair, 

Among  them  walked,  and  to  their  thirsty  lips 

Presented  frequent  cups  of  burning  gall. 

And  as  I  listened,  I  heard  these  beings  curse 

Almighty  God,  and  curse  the  Lamb,  and  curse 

The  earth,  the  resurrection  morn,  and  seek, 

And  ever  vainly  seek,  for  utter  death. 

And  to  their  everlasting  anguish  still. 

The  thunders  from  above  responding  spoke 

These  words,  which,  through  the  caverns  of  perdition 

Forlornly  echoing,  fell  on  every  ear  : 

"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not." 

And  back  again  recoiled  a  deeper  groan. 

A' deeper  groan  !  Oh,  what  a  groan  was  that ! 


I  waited  not,  but  swift  on  speediest  wing, 
With  unaccustomed  thoughts  conversing,  back 
Retraced  my  venturous  path  from  dark  to  light. 
Then  up  ascending,  long  ascending  up, 
I  hasted  on ;  though  whiles  the  chiming  spheres, 
By  God's  own  finger  touched  to  harmony, 
Held  me  delaying,  till  I  here  arrived, 
Drawn  upward  by  the  eternal  love  of  God, 
Of  wonder  full  and  strange  astonishment, 
At  what  in  yonder  den  of  darkness  dwells, 
Which  now  your  higher  knowledge  will  unfold. 

They  answering  said.     To  ask  and  to  bestow 
Knowledge,  is  much  of  heaven's  delight ;  and  now 
Most  joyfully  what  thou  requirst  we  would  j 
For  much  of  new  and  unaccountable 
Thou  bringst.    Something  indeed  we  heard  before, 
In  passing  conversation  slightly  touched. 
Of  such  a  place ;  yet,  rather  to  be  taught, 
Than  teaching,  answer,  what  thy  marvel  asks, 
We  need ;  for  we  ourselves,  though  here,  are  but 
Of  yesterday,  creation's  younger  sons. 
But  thisre  is  one,  an  ancient  bard  of  Earth, 
Who,  by  the  stream  of  life,  sitting  in  bliss, 
Has  oft  beheld  the  eternal  years  complete 
The  mighty  circle  round  the  throne  of  God ; 
Great  in  all  learning,  in  all  wisdom  great. 
And  great  in  song  ;  whose  harp  in  lofty  strain 
Tells  frequently  of  what  thy  wonder  craves. 
While  round  him,  gathering,  stand  the  youth  of  heaven, 
With  truth  and  melody  delighted  both. 
To  him  this  path  directs,  an  easy  path, 
And  easy  flight  will  bring  us  to  his  seat. 

So  saying,  they  linked  hand  in  hand,  spread  out 
Their  golden  wings,  by  living  breezes  fanned. 
And  over  heaven's  broad  champaign  sailed  serene. 


10  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

O'er  hill  and  valley,  clothed  with  verdure  green, 
That  never  fades ;  and  tree,  and  herb,  and  flower, 
That  never  fades  ;  and  many  a  river,  rich 
With  nectar,  winding  pleasantly,  they  passed } 
And  mansion  of  celestial  mould,  and  work 
Divine.     And  oft  delicious  music,  sung 
By  saint  and  angel  bands  that  walked  the  vales, 
Or  mountain  tops,  and  harped  upon  their  harps. 
Their  ear  inclined,  and  held  by  sweet  constraint 
Their  wing  ;  not  long,  for  strong  desire  awaked 
Of  knowledge  that  to  holy  use  might  turn. 
Still  pressed  them  on  to  leave  what  rather  seemed 
Pleasure,  due  only  when  all  duty's  done. 

And  now  beneath  them  lay  the  wished-for  spot, 
The  sacred  bower  of  that  renowned  bard  ; 
That  ancient  bard,  ancient  in  days  and  song ; 
But  in  immortal  vigour  young,  and  young 
In  rosy  health  ;  to  pensive  solitude 
Retiring  oft,  as  was  his  wont  on  earth. 

Fit  was  the  place,  most  fit,  for  holy  musing. 
Upon  a  little  mount,  that  gently  rose. 
He  sat,  clothed  in  white  robes ;  and  o'er  his  head 
A  laurel  tree,  of  lustiest,  eldest  growth. 
Stately  and  tall,  and  shadowing  far  and  wide, — 
Not  fruitless,  as  on  earth,  but  bloomed,  and  rich 
With  frequent  clusters,  ripe  to  heavenly  taste, — • 
Spread  its  eternal  boughs,  and  in  its  arms 
A  myrtle  of  unfading  leaf  embraced — 
The  rose  and  lily,  fresh  with  fragrant  dew, 
And  every  flower  of  fairest  cheek,  around 
Him,  smiling  flocked.    Beneath  his  feet,  fast  by, 
And  round  his  sacred  hill,  a  streamlet  walked, 
Warbling  the  holy  melodies  of  heaven  ; 
The  hallowed  zephyrs  brought  him  incense  sweet ; 
And  out  before  him  opened,  in  prospect  long, 


BOOK  I.  11 

The  river  of  life,  in  many  a  winding  maze 
Descending  from  the  lolly  throne  of  God, 
That  with  excessive  glory  closed  the  scene. 

Of  Adam's  race  he  was,  and  lonoly  sat, 
By  chance  that  day,  in  meditation  deep. 
Reflecting  much  of  time,  and  earth,  and  man. 
And  now  to  pensive,  now  to  cheerful  notes, 
He  touched  a  harp  of  wondrous  melody. . 
A  golden  harp  it  was,  a  precious  gift. 
Which,  at  the  day  of  judgment,  with  the  crown 
Of  life,  he  had  received  from  God's  own  hand, 
Reward  due  to  his  service  done  on  earth. 

He  sees  their  coming,  and  with  greeting  kind. 
And  welcome,  not  of  hollow  forged  smiles, 
And  ceremonious  compliment  of  phrase, 
But  of  the  heart  sincere,  into  his  bower 
Invites.     Like  greeting  they  returned.     Not  bent 
In  low  obeisancy,  from  creature  most 
Unfit  to  creature  ;  but  with  manly  form 
Upright  they  entered  in  ;  though  high  his  rank, 
His  wisdom  high,  and  mighty  his  renown. 
And  thus,  deferring  all  apology. 
The  two  their  new  companion  introduced. 

Ancient  in  knowledge  !  bard  of  Adam's  race  ! 
We  bring  thee  one,  of  us  inquiring  what 
We  need  to  learn,  and  with  him  wish  to  learn. 
His  asking  will  direct  thy  answer  best. 

Most  ancient  bard  !  began  the  new  arrived,  i 

Few  words  will  set  my  wonder  forth,  and  guide 
Thy  wisdom's  light  to  what  in  me  is  dark. 

Equipped  for  heaven,  I  left  my  native  place. 
But  first  beyond  the  realms  of  light  I  bent 
My  course  ;  and  there,  in  utter  darkness,  far 


12  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Remote,  I  beings  saw  forlorn  in  wo, 

Burning  continually,  yet  unconsumed. 

And  there  were  groans  that  ended  not,  and  sighs 

That  always  sighed,  and  tears  that  ever  wept 

And  ever  fell,  but  not  in  Mercy's  sight. 

And  still  I  heard  these  wretched  beings  curse 

Almighty  God,  and  curse  the  Lamb,  and  curse 

The  earth,  the  resurrection  morn,  and  seek, 

And  ever  vainly  seek,  for  utter  death. 

And  from  above  the  thunders  answered  still, 

"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not." 

And  every  where  throughout  that  horrid  den, 

I  saw  a  form  of  excellence,  a  form 

Of  beauty  without  spot,  that  naught  could  see 

And  not  admire,  admire  and  not  adore. 

And  from  its  own  essential  beams  it  gave 

Light  to  itself,  that  made  the  gloom  more  dark. 

And  every  eye  in  that  infernal  pit 

Beheld  it  still ;  and  from  its  face — how  fair ! 

O,  how  exceeding  fair ! — for  ever  sought, 

But  ever  vainly  sought,  to  turn  away. 

That  image,  as  I  guess,  was  Virtue  ;  for 

Naught  else  hath  God  given  countenance  so  fair. 

But  why  in  such  a  place  it  should  abide  ? 

What  place  it  is  ?     What  beings  there  lament  .'* 

Whence  came  they  .'*  and  for  what  their  endless  groan  ? 

Why  curse  they  God  .''  why  seek  they  utter  death  ? 

And  chief,  what  means  the  resurrection  morn  .'* 

My  youth  expects  thy  reverend  age  to  tell. 

Thou  rightly  deemst,  fair  youth,  began  the  bard. 
The  form  thou  sawst  was  Virtue,  ever  fair. 
Virtue,  like  God,  wliose  excellent  majesty, 
Whose  glory  virtue  is,  is  omnipresent. 
No  being,  once  created  rational. 
Accountable,  endowed  with  moral  sense. 
With  sapience  of  right  and  wrong  endowed. 
And  charged,  however  fallen,  debased,  destroyed  j 


BOOK  I.  13 

However  lost,  forlorn,  and  miserable  ; 

In  guilt's  dark  shrouding  wrapped,  however  thick ; 

However  drunk,  delirious,  and  mad. 

With  sin's  full  cup ;  and  with  whatever  damned, 

Unnatural  diligence  it  work  and  toil, 

Can  banish  Virtue  from  its  sight,  or  once 

Forget  that  she  is  fair.     Hides  it  in  night, 

In  central  night ;  takes  it  the  lightning's  wing, 

And  flies  for  ever  on,  beyond  the  bounds 

Of  all ;  drinks  it  the  maddest  cup  of  sin ; 

Dives  it  beneath  the  ocean  of  despair ; 

It  dives,  it  drinks,  it  flies,  it  hides  in  vain. 

For  still  the  eternal  beauty,  image  fair, 

Once  stamped  upon  the  soul,  before  the  eye 

All  lovely  stands,  nor  will  depart ;  so  God 

Ordains  ;  and  lovely  to  the  worst  she  seems. 

And  ever  seems  ;  and  as  they  look,  and  still 

Must  ever  look,  upon  her  loveliness, 

Remembrance  dire  of  what  they  were,  of  what 

They  might  have  been,  and  bitter  sense  of  what 

They  are,  polluted,  ruined,  hopeless,  lost, 

With  most  repenting  torment  rend  their  hearts. 

So  God  ordains,  their  punishment  severe, 

Eternally  inflicted  by  themselves. 

'Tis  this,  this  Virtue  hovering  evermore 

Before  the  vision  of  the  damned,  and  in 

Upon  their  monstrous  moral  nakedness 

Casting  unwelcome  light,  that  makes  their  wo, 

That  makes  the  essence  of  the  endless  flame. 

Where  this  is,  there  is  hell,  darker  than  aught 

That  he,  the  bard  three- visioned,  darkest  saw. 

The   place  thou    sawst  was  hell;    the  groans   thou 
heardst 
The  wailings  of  the  damned,  of  those  who  would 
Not  be  redeemed,  and  at  the  judgment  day. 
Long  past,  for  unrepented  sins  were  damned. 
The  seven  loud  thunders  which  thou  heardst,  declare 
2 


14  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

The  eternal  wrath  of  the  Almighty  God. 

But  whence,  or  why  they  came  to  dwell  in  wo, 

Why  they  curse  God,  what  means  the  glorious  morn 

Of  resurrection,  these  a  longer  tale 

Demand,  and  lead  the  mournful  lyre  far  back 

Through  memory  of  sin  and  mortal  man. 

Yet  haply  not  rewardless  we  shall  trace 

The  dark  disastrous  years  of  finished  Time. 

Sorrows  remembered  sweeten  present  joy. 

Nor  yet  shall  all  be  sad  }  for  God  gave  peace, 

Much  peace,  on  earth,  to  all  who  feared  his  name. 

But  first  it  needs  to  say,  that  other  style 
And  other  language  than  thy  ear  is  wont, 
Thou  must  expect  to  hear,  the  dialect 
Of  man.     For  each  in  heaven  a  relish  holds 
Of  former  speech,  that  points  to  whence  he  came. 
But  whether  I  of  person  speak,  or  place, 
Event  or  action,  moral  or  divine  ; 
Or  tilings  unknown  compare  to  things  unknown  j 
Allude,  imply,  suggest,  apostrophize  ; 
Or  touch,  when  wandering  through  the  past,  on  moods 
Of  mind  thou  never  feltst ;  the  meaning  still. 
With  easy  apprehension,  thou  shalt  take. 
So  perfect  here  is  knowledge,  and  the  strings 
Of  sympathy  so  tuned,  that  every  word 
That  each  to  other  speaks,  though  never  heard 
Before,  at  once  is  fully  understood. 
And  every  feeling  uttered,  fully  felt. 

So  shalt  thou  find,  as  from  my  various  spng, 
That  backward  rolls  o'er  many  a  tide  of  years, 
Directly  or  inferred,  thy  asking,  thou. 
And  wondering  doubt,  shalt  learn  to  answer,  while 
I  sketch  in  brief  the  history  of  man. 


THE 


COURSE  OF  TIME. 


BOOK  II. 


This  said,  he  waked  the  golden  harp,  and  thus, 
While  on  him  inspiration  breathed,  began. 

As  from  yon  everlasting  hills  that  gird 
Heaven  northward,  I  thy  course  espied,  I  judge 
Thou  from  the  arctic  regions  came  ?     Perhaps 
Thou  noticed  on  thy  way  a  little  orb, 
Attended  by  one  moon,  her  lamp  by  night. 
With  her  fair  sisterhood  of  planets  seven, 
Revolving  round  their  central  sun ;  she  third 
1   In  place,  in  magnitude  the  fourth.     That  orb, 

•  New  made,  new  named,  inhabited  anew, — 
Though  whiles  we  sons  of  Adam  visit  still. 
Our  native  place,  not  changed  so  far  but  we 
Can  trace  our  ancient  walks,  the  scenery 

Of  childhood,  youth,  and  prime,  and  hoary  age, 
But  scenery  most  of  suffering  and  wo, — 

•  That  little  orb,  in  days  remote  of  old, 

•  When  angels  yet  were  young,  was  made  for  man, 
I  And  titled  Earth,  her  primal  virgin  name  ; — 

I   Created  first  so  lovely,  so  adorned 
[  With  hill,  and  dale,  and  lawn,  and  winding  vale, 
'  Woodland,  and  stream,  and  lake,  and  rolling  seas, 
\  Green  mead,  and  fruitful  tree,  and  fertile  grain. 
And  herb  and  flower ;  so  lovely,  so  adorned 
With  numerous  beasts  of  every  kind,  with  fowl 


16  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Of  every  wing  and  every  tuneful  note, 

And  with  all  fish  that  in  the  multitude 

Of  waters  swam ;  so  lovely,  so  adorned. 

So  fit  a  dwelling  place  for  man,  that,  as 

She  rose,  complete,  at  the  creating  word. 

The  morning  stars,  the  sons  of  God,  aloud 

Shouted  for  joy  ;  and  God,  beholding,  saw 

The  fair  design,  that  from  eternity 

His  mind  conceived,  accomplished,  and,  well  pleased, 

His  six  days  finished  work  most  good  pronounced. 

And  man  declared  the  sovereign  prince  of  all. 

All  else  was  prone,  irrational,  and  mute, 
And  unaccountable,  by  instinct  led. 
But  man  He  made  of  angel  form  erect. 
To  hold  communion  with  the  heavens  above  ; 
And  on  his  soul  impressed  his  image  fair, 
His  own  similitude  of  holiness. 
Of  virtue,  truth,  and  love  ;  with  reason  high 
To  balance  right  and  wrong,  and  conscience  qalck 
To  choose  or  to  reject ;  with  knowledge  great, 
Prudence  and  wisdom,  vigilance  and  strength, 
To  guard  all  force  or  guile  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
The  highest  gift  of  God's  abundant  grace. 
With  perfect,  free,  unbiassed  will.     Thus  man 
Was  made  upright,  immortal  made,  and  crowned 
The  king  of  all ;  to  eat,  to  drink,  to  do 
i Freely  and  sovereignly  his  will  entire. 
By  one  command  alone  restrained,  to  prove, 
As  was  most  just,  his  filial  love  sincere. 
His  loyalty,  obedience  due,  and  faith. 
And  thus  the  prohibition  ran,  expressed. 
As  God  is  wont,  in  terms  of  plainest  truth. 

Of  every  tree  that  in  the  garden  grows 
Thou  mayest  freely  eat ;  but  of  the  tree 
That  knowledge  hath  of  good  and  ill,  eat  not. 
Nor  touch ;  for  in  the  day  thou  eatest,  thou 


BOOK  II.  17 

Shalt  die.  Go,  and  this  one  command  obey, 
Adam,  live  and  be  happy,  and,  with  thy  Eve, 
Fit  consort,  multiply  and  fill  the  earth. 

Thus  they,  the  representatives  of  men. 
Were  placed  in  Eden,  choicest  spot  of  earth. 
With  royal  honour  and  with  glory  crowned, 
Adam,  the  Lord  of  all,  majestic  walked, 
i  With  godlike  countenance  sublime,  and  form 
'  tOf  lofty  towering  strength  ;  and  by  his  side 
I  Eve,  fair  as  morning  star,  with  modesty 
(Arrayed,  with  virtue,  grace,  and  perfect  love  ; 
lln  holy  marriage  wed,  and  eloquent 
iOf  thought  and  comely  words,  to  worship  God 
'And  sing  his  praise,  the  Giver  of  all  good : 
jGlad,  in  each  other  glad,  and  glad  in  hope  j 
iRejoicing  in  their  future  happy  race. 

O  lovely,  happy,  blest,  immortal  pair  ! 
Pleased  with  the  present,  full  of  glorious  hope. 
But  short,  alas,  the  song  that  sings  their  bliss ! 
Henceforth  the  history  of  man  grows  dark  ! 
Shade  after  shade  of  deepening  gloom  descends ; 
And  Innocence  laments  her  robes  defiled. 
Who  farther  sings,  must  change  the  pleasant  lyre 
To  heavy  notes  of  wo.     Why !  dost  thou  ask, 
Surprised  ?     The  answer  will  surprise  thee  more. 
Man  sinned  ;   tempted,  he  ate  the  guarded  tree  ;— 
Tempted  of  whom  thou  afterwards  shalt  hear  ; — 
Audacious,  unbelieving,  proud,  ungrateful. 
He  ate  the  interdicted  fruit,  and  fell ; 
And  in  his  fall,  his  universal  race  ; 
For  they  in  him  by  delegation  were, 
In  him  to  stand  or  fall,  to  live  or  die. 

Man  most  ingrate  !  so  full  of  grace,  to  sin, 
Here  interposed  the  new  arrived,  so  full 
Of  bliss,  to  sin  against  the  Gracious  One  1 

2* 


18  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

The  holy,  just,  and  good  !  the  Eternal  Love  ! 
Unseen,  unheard,  unthought  of  wickedness  1 
Why  slumbered  vengeance  ?     No,  it  slumbered  not. 
The  ever  just  and  righteous  God  would  let 
His  fury  loose,  and  satisfy  his  threat. 

That  had  been  just,  replied  the  reverend  bard, 
But  done,  fair  youth,  thou  ne'er  hadst  met  me  here  ' 
1  ne'er  had  seen  yon  glorious  throne  in  peace. 

Thy  powers  are  great,  originally  great, 
And  purified  even  at  the  fount  of  light. 
Exert  them  now,  call  all  their  vigour  out ; 
Take  room,  think  vastly,  meditate  intensely, 
Reason  profoundly  ;  send  conjecture  forth. 
Let  fancy  fly,  stoop  down,  ascend  ;  all  length, 
All  breadth  explore,  all  moral,  all  divine  ; 
Ask  prudence,  justice,  mercy  ask,  and  might ; 
Weigh  good  with  evil,  balance  right  with  wrong  ; 
With  virtue  vice  compare,  hatred  with  love  j 
God's  holiness,  God's  justice,  and  God's  truth, 
Deliberately  and  cautiously  compare 
With  sinful,  wicked,  vile,  rebellious  man  ; 
And  see  if  thou  canst  punish  sin,  and  let 
Mankind  go  free.     Thou  failst;  be  not  surprised. 
I  bade  thee  search  in  vain.     Eternal  love, 
Harp,  lift  thy  voice  on  high  !  eternal  love. 
Eternal,  sovereign  love,  and  sovereign  grace, 
Wisdom,  and  power,  and  mercy  infinite. 
The  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  God, 
Devised  the  wondrous  plan,  devised,  achieved, 
And  in  achieving  made  the  marvel  more. 
Attend,  ye  heavens  !  ye  heaven  of  heavens !  attend, 
Attend  and  wonder,  wonder  evermore  ! 
When  man  had  fallen,  rebelled,  insulted  God ; 
Was  most  polluted,  yet  most  madly  proud  ; 
indebted  infinitely,  yet  most  poor  ; 
'^,/aptive  to  sin,  yet  willing  to  be  bound ; 


BOOK  II.  19 

To  God's  incensed  justice  and  hot  wrath 

Exposed,  due  victim  of  eternal  death 

And  utter  wo — Harp,  lift  thy  voice  on  high  ! 

Ye  everlasting  hills !  ye  angels  !   bow, 

Bow,  ye  redeemed  of  men  ! — God  was  made  flesh, 

And  dwelt  with  man  on  earth  !  the  Son  of  God, 

Only  begotten  and  well  beloved,  between 

Men  and  his  Father's  justice  interposed  ; 

Put  human  nature  on  ;  His  wrath  sustained ; 

And  in  their  name  suffered,  obeyed,  and  died. 

Making  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin  ; 

Just  for  unjust,  and  innocence  for  guilt, 

By  doing,  suffering,  dying  unconstrained. 

Save  by  omnipotence  of  boundless  grace,         /? 

Complete  atonement  made  to  God  appeased  ;♦  :>-v  ..r-Yr^ 

Made  honourable  his  insulted  law. 

Turning  the  wrath  aside  from  pardoned  man. 

Thus  Truth  with  Mercy  met,  and  Righteousness, 

Stooping  from  highest  heaven,  embraced  fair  Peace, 

That  walked  the  earth  in  fellowship  with  Love. 

O  love  divine  !  O  mercy  infinite  ! 
The  audience  here  in  glowing  rapture  broke, 
O  love,  all  height  above,  all  depth  below, 
Surpassing  far  all  knowledge,  all  desire. 
All  thought !     The  Holy  One  for  sinners  dies ! 
The  Lord  of  life  for  guilty  rebels  bleeds. 
Quenches  eternal  fire  with  blood  divine  ' 
Abundant  mercy  !  overflowing  grace  ! 
There,  whence  I  came,  I  something  heard  of  men. 
Their  name  had  reached  us,  and  report  did  speak 
Of  some  abominable  horrid  thing, 
Of  desperate  offence  they  had  committed. 
And  something  too  of  wondrous  grace  we  heard. 
And  oft  of  our  celestial  visitants 
What  man,  what  God  had  done,  inquired ;  but  they, 
Forbid,  our  asking  never  met  directly, 
Exhorting  still  to  persevere  upright, 


20  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  we  should  hear  in  heaven,  though  greatly  blest 

Ourselves,  new  wonders  of  God's  wondrous  love. 

This  hinting,  keener  appetite  to  know 

Awaked  ;  and  as  we  talked,  and  much  admired 

What  new  we  there  should  learn,  we  hasted  each 

To  nourish  virtue  to  perfection  up, 

That  we  might  have  our  wondering  resolved, 

And  leave  of  louder  praise  to  greater  deeds 

Of  loving  kindness  due.     Mysterious  love ! 

God  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  with  men  on  earth !  - 

Blood  holy,  blood  divine  for  sinners  shed  ! 

My  asking  ends,  but  makes  my  wonder  more. 

Saviour  of  men  !  henceforth  be  thou  my  theme ; 

Redeeming  love,  my  study  day  and  night. 

Mankind  were  lost,  all  lost,  and  all  redeemed  ! 

Thou  errst  again,  but  innocently  errst, 
Not  knowing  sin's  depravity,  nor  man's 
Sincere  and  persevering  wickedness. 
All  were  redeemed  ?     Not  all,  or  thou  hadst  heard 
No  human  voice  in  hell.     Many  refused, 
Although  beseeched,  refused  to  be  redeemed, 
Redeemed  from  death  to  life,  from  wo  to  bliss ! 

Canst  thou  believe  my  song  when  thus  I  sing  .-* 
When  man  had  fallen,  was  ruined,  hopeless,  lost — 
Ye  choral  harps  !  ye  angels  that  excel 
In  strength  !  and  loudest,  ye  redeemed  of  men  ! 
To  God,  to  Him  that  sits  upon  the  throne 
On  high,  and  to  the  Lamb,  sing  honour,  sing 
Dominion,  glory,  blessing  sing,  and  praise ! — 
When  man  had  fallen,  was  ruined,  hopeless,  lost, 
Messiah,  Prince  of  Peace,  Eternal  King, 
Died,  that  the  dead  might  live,  the  lost  be  saved. 
Wonder,  O  heavens  !  and  be  astonished,  earth  ! 
Thou  ancient,  thou  forgotten  earth  !  ye  worlds  admire  ! 
Admire  and  be  confounded  !  and  thou  hell, 
Deepen  thy  eternal  groan  !— men  would  not  be 


21 


Redeemed, — ^I  speak  of  many,  not  of  all, — 
Would  not  be  saved  for  lost,  have  life  for  death  I 

Mysterious  song  !  the  new«arrived  exclaimed, 
Mysterious  mercy !  most  mysterious  hate  ! 
To  disobey  was  mad,  this  madder  far, 
Incurable  insanity  of  will  ! 
What  now  but  wrath  could  guilty  men  expect  ? 
What  more  could  love,  what  more  could  mercy  do  ? 

No  more,  resumed  the  bard,  no  more  they  could. 
Thou  hast  seen  hell.    The  wicked  there  lament ! 
And  why  ?  for  love  and  mercy  twice  despised. 
The  husbandman,  who  sluggishly  forgot 
In  spring  to  plough  and  sow,  could  censure  none, 
Though  winter  clamoured  round  his  empty  barns. 
But  he  who,  having  thus  neglected,  did 
Refuse,  when  autumn  Came,  and  famine  threatened, 
To  reap  the  golden  field  that  charity 
Bestowed  ;  nay,  more  obdurate,  proud,  and  blind, 
And  stupid  still,  refused,  though  much  beseeched, 
And  long  entreated,  even  with  Mercy's  tears, 
To  eat  what  to  his  very  lips  was  held, 
Cooked  temptingly, — he  certainly,  at  least, 
Deserved  to  die  of  hunger,  unbemoaned. 
So  did  the  wicked  spurn  the  grace  of  God ; 
And  so  were  punished  with  the  second  death. 
The  first,  no  doubt,  punition  less  severe 
Intended  ;  death,  belike,  of  all  entire. 
But  this  incurred,  by  God  discharged,  and  life 
Freely  presented,  and  again  despised. 
Despised,  though  bought  with  Mercy's  proper  blood, 
'Twas  this  dug  hell,  and  kindled  all  its  bounds 
With  wrath  and  inextinguishable  fire. 

Free  was  the  offer,  free  to  all,  of  life 
And  of  salvation ;  but  the  proud  of  heart. 
Because  'twas  free,  would  not  accept ;  and  still 


22  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

To  merit  wished  ;  and  choosing,  thus  unshipped, 

Uncompassed,  unprovisioned,  and  bestormed, 

To  swim  a  sea  of  breadth  immeasurable, 

They  scorned  the  goodly  bark,  w^hose  wings  the  breath 

Of  God's  eternal  Spirit  filled  for  heaven. 

That  stopped  to  take  them  in,  and  so  were  lost. 

What  wonders  dost  thou  tell !     To  merit,  how  ! 
Of  creature  meriting  in  sight  of  God, 
As  right  of  service  done,  I  never  heard 
Till  now.     We  never  fell ;  in  virtue  stood 
Upright,  and  persevered  in  holiness  ; 
But  stood  by  grace,  by  grace  we  persevered. 
Ourselves,  our  deeds,  our  holiest,  highest  deeds 
Unworthy  aught ;  grace  worthy  endless  praise. 
If  we  fly  swift,  obedient  to  his  will, 
He  gives  us  wings  to  fly ;  if  we  resist 
Temptation,  and  ne'er  fall,  it  is  his  shield 
Omnipotent  that  wards  it  off";  if  we, 
With  love  unquenchable,  before  him  burn, 
'Tis  he  that  lights  and  keeps  alive  the  flame. 
Men  surely  lost  their  reason  in  their  fall, 
And  did  not  understand  the  offer  made. 

They  might  have  understood,  the  bard  replied ; 
They  had  the  Bible.     Hast  thou  ever  heard 
Of  such  a  book  .''     The  author,  God  himself; 
The  subject,  God  and  man,  salvation,  life 
And  death — eternal  life,  eternal  death — 
Dread  words  !  whose  meaning  has  no  end,  no  bounds — 
Most  wondrous  book !  bright  candle  of  the  Lord ! 
Star  of  eternity  !  the  only  star 
By  which  the  bark  of  man  could  navigate 
The  sea  of  life,  and  gain  the  coast  of  bliss 
Securely  !  only  star  which  rose  on  Time, 
And,  on  its  dark  and  troubled  billows,  still, 
As  generation,  drifting  swiftly  by, 
Succeeded  generation,  threw  a  ray 


BOOK  II.  23 

Of  heaven's  own  light,  and  to  the  hills  of  God, 

The  eternal  hills,  pointed  the  sinner's  eye. 

By  prophets,  seers,  and  priests,  and  sacred  bards, 

Evangelists,  apostles,  men  inspired. 

And  by  the  Holy  Ghost  anointed,  set 

Apart  and  consecrated  to  declare 

To  Earth  the  counsels  of  the  Eternal  One, 

This  book,  this  holiest,  this  sublimest  book, 

Was  sent.     Heaven's  will,  Heaven's  code  of  laws  entke, 

To  man,  this  book  contained ;  defined  the  bounds 

Of  vice  and  virtue,  and  of  life  and  death; 

And  what  was  shadow,  what  was  substance  taught. 

Much  it  revealed  ;  important  all ;  the  least 

Worth  more  than  what  else  seemed  of  highest  worth, 

But  this  of  plainest,  most  essential  truth : 

That  God  is  one,  eternal,  holy,  just. 

Omnipotent,  omniscient,  infinite  ; 

Most  wuse,  most  good,  most  merciful  and  true  ; 

In  all  perfection  most  unchangeable  : 

That  man,  that  every  man  of  every  clime 

And  hue,  of  every  age  and  every  rank. 

Was  bad,  by  nature  and  by  practice  bad  ; 

In  understanding  blind,  in  will  perverse, 

In  heart  corrupt ;  in  every  thought,  and  word. 

Imagination,  passion,  and  desire. 

Most  utterly  depraved  throughout,  and  ill. 

In  sight  of  Heaven,  though  less  in  sight  of  man ; 

At  enmity  with  God  his  maker  born, 

And  by  his  very  life  an  heir  of  death  :   *'>  ■ ' 

That  man,  that  every  man  was,  farther,  most 

Unable  to  redeem  himself,  or  pay 

One  mite  of  his  vast  debt  to  God  ;  nay,  more. 

Was  most  reluctant  and  averse  to  be 

Redeemed,  and  sin's  most  voluntary  slave  : 

That  Jesus,  Son  of  God,  of  Mary  born 

In  Bethlehem,  and  by  Pilate  crucified 

On  Calvary,  for  man  thus  fallen  and  lost. 

Pied  ;  and,  by  death,  life  and  salvation  bought. 


24  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  perfect  righteousness,  for  all  who  should 

In  his  great  name  believe  :  That  He,  the  third 

In  the  eternal  Essence,  to  the  prayer 

Sincere  should  come,  should  come  as  soon  as  asked, 

Proceeding  from  the  Father  and  the  Son, 

To  give  faith  and  repentance,  such  as  God 

Accepts  ;  to  oj^en  the  intellectual  eyes, 

Blinded  by  sin  ;  to  bend  the  stubborn  will, 

Perversely  to  the  side  of  wrong  inclined. 

To  God  and  his  commandments,  just  and  good ; 

The  wild,  rebellious  passions  to  subdue. 

And  bring  them  back  to  harmony  with  heaven  ; 

To  purify  the  conscience,  and  to  lead 

The  mind  into  all  truth,  and  to  adorn 

With  every  holy  ornament  of  grace. 

And  sanctify  the  whole  renewed  soul. 

Which  henceforth  might  no  more  fall  totally. 

But  persevere,  though  erring  oft,  amidst 

The  mists  of  Time,  in  piety  to  God, 

And  sacred  works  of  charity  to  men  : 

That  he  who  thus  believed,  and  practised  thus. 

Should  have  his  sins  forgiven,  however  vile  ; 

Should  be  sustained  at  mid-day,  morn,  and  even. 

By  God's  omnipotent,  eternal  grace  : 

And  in  the  evil  hour  of  sore  disease. 

Temptation,  persecution,  war,  and  death, — 

For  temporal  death,  although  anstinged,  remained, — 

Beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty's  wings 

Should  sit  unhurt,  and  at  the  judgment-day, 

Should  share  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

And  reign  with  Christ  in  bliss  for  evermore  : 

That  all,  however  named,  however  great. 

Who  would  not  thus  believe,  nor  practise  thus, 

But  in  their  sins  impenitent  remained. 

Should  in  perpetual  fear  and  terror  live  ; 

Should  die  unpardoned,  unredeemed,  unsaved ; 

And,  at  the  hour  of  doom,  should  be  cast  out 

To  utter  darkness  in  the  night  of  hell, 


BOOK  II.  25 

By  mercy  and  by  God  abandoned,  there        -, 
To  reap  the  harvests  of  eternal  wo. 

This  did  that  book  declare  in  obvious  phrase, 
In  most  sincere  and  honest  words,  by  God 
Himself  selected  and  arranged,  so  clear, 
So  plain,  so  perfectly  distinct,  that  none, 
Who  read  with  humble  wish  to  understand,    ' 
And  asked  the  Spirit,  given  to  all  who  asked, 
Could  miss  their  meaning,  blazed  in  heavenly  light. 

This  book,  this  holy  book,  on  every  line 
Marked  with  the  seal  of  high  divinity, 
On  every  leaf  bedewed  with  drops  of  love 
Divine,  and  with  the  eternal  heraldry 
And  signature  of  God  Almighty  stamped 
From  first  to  last,  this  ray  of  sacred  light, 
This  lamp,  from  off  the  everlasting  throne, 
Mercy  took  down,  and,  in  the  night  of  Time 
Stood,  casting  on  the  dark  her  gracious  bow ; 
And  evermore  beseeching  men,  with  tears 
And  earnest  sighs,  to  read,  believe,  and  live. 
And  many  to  her  voice  gave  ear,  and  read, 
Believed,  obeyed  ;  and  now,  as  the  Amen, 
True,  Faithful  Witness  swore,  with  snowy  robes 
And  branchy  palms,  surround  the  fount  of  life, 
And  drink  the  streams  of  immortality. 
For  ever  happy,  and  for  ever  young. 

Many  believed ;  but  more  the  truth  of  God 
Turned  to  a  lie,  deceiving  and  deceived ; 
Each  with  the  accursed  sorcery  of  sin, 
To  his  own  wish  and  vile  propensity 
Transforming  still  the  meaning  of  the  text. 

Hear,  while  I  briefly  tell  what  mortals  proved, 
By  eflfort  vast  of  ingenuity, 
Most  wondrous,  though  perverse  and  damnable, 
3 


26  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME, 

Proved  from  the  Bible,  which,  as  thou  hast  heard, 

So  plainly  spoke  that  all  could  understand. 

First,  and  not  least  in  number,  argued  some, 

From  out  this  book  itself,  it  was  a  lie, 

A  fable  framed  by  crafty  men  to  cheat 

The  simple  herd,  and  make  them  bow  the  knee 

To  kings  and  priests.     These  in  their  wisdom  left 

The  light  revealed,  and  turned  to  fancies  wild ; 

Maintaining  loud,  that  ruined,  helpless  man. 

Needed  no  Saviour.     Others  proved  that  men 

Might  live  and  die  in  sin,  and  yet  be  saved, 

For  so  it  was  decreed  3  binding  the  will. 

By  God  left  free,  to  unconditional. 

Unreasonable  fate.     Others  believed 

That  he  who  was  most  criminal,  debased, 

Condemned,  and  dead,  unaided  might  ascend 

The  heights  of  virtue  ;  to  a  perfect  law 

Giving  a  lame,  half-way  obedience,  which 

By  useless  effort  only  served  to  show 

The  impotence  of  him  who  vainly  strove 

With  finite  arm  to  measure  infinite  ; 

Most  useless  effort,  when  to  justify 

In  sight  of  God  it  meant,  as  proof  of  faith 

Most  acceptable  and  worthy  of  all  praise. 

Another  held,  and  from  the  Bible  held. 

He  was  infallible,  most  fallen  by  such 

Pretence  ;  that  none  the  Scriptures,  open  to  all. 

And  most  to  humble-hearted,  ought  to  read, 

But  priests  ;  that  all  who  ventured  to  disclaim 

His  forged  authority,  incurred  the  wrath 

Of  Heaven;  and  he  who,  in  the  blood  of  such, 

Though  father,  mother,  daughter,  wife,  or  son, 

Imbrued  his  hands,  did  most  religious  work. 

Well  pleasing  to  the  heart  of  the  Most  High. 

Others  in  outward  rite  devotion  placed, 

In  meats,  in  drinks,  in  robe  of  certain  shape, 

In  bodily  abasements,  bended  knees  ; 

Days,  numbers,  places,  vestments,  words,  land  names ; 


BOOK  II.  27 

Absurdly  in  their  hearts  imagining, 

That  God,  like  men,  was  pleased  with  outward  show. 

Another,  stranger  and  more  wicked  still, 

With  dark  and  dolorous  labour,  ill  applied, ^^p^.^^-  --** 

With  many  a  gripe  of  conscience,  and  ^yJJ^jSj^^u    **•  On  >f 

Unhealthy  and  abortive  reasoning,    Jt^\^      Of  THB 

That  brought  his  sanity  to  serious  dMaL  %•  «  «v  ^  *0  CI 

'Mong  wise  and  honest  men,  mainta&qf  tfilt  Jil6|    iU  m^^  ^ 

First  Wisdom,  Great  Messiah,  Frincwof  Bq^e.      QV  m 

The  second  of  the  uncreated  Three,  ^^^^  iTPO'B*  ** 

Was  naught  but  man,  of  earthly  origin :  ^^'••^Ci::!  ^ 

Thus  making  void  the  sacrifice  divine, 

And  leaving  guilty  men,  God's  holy  law 

Still  unatoned,  to  work  them  endless  death. 

These  are  a  part ;  but  to  relate  thee  all 
The  monstrous,  unbaptized  fantasies, 
Imaginations  fearfully  absurd. 
Hobgoblin  rites,  and  moon-struck  reveries, 
Distracted  creeds,  and  visionary  dreams, 
More  bodiless  and  hideouslj'^  misshapen 
Than  ever  fancy,  at  the  noon  of  night, 
Playing  at  will,  framed  in  the  madman's  brain, 
■  That  from  this  book  of  simple  truth  were  proved. 
Were  proved,  as  foolish  men  were  wont  to  prove, 
Would  bring  my  word  in  doubt,  and  thy  belief 
Stagger,  though  here  I  sit  and  sing,  within 
The  pale  of  truth,  where  falsehood  never  came. 

The  rest,  who  lost  the  heavenly  light  revealed, 
Not  wishing  to  retain  God  in  their  minds. 
In  darkness  wandered  on.     Yet  could  they  not, 
Though  moral  night  around  them  drew  her  pall 
Of  blackness,  rest  in  utter  unbelief. 
The  voice  within,  the  voice  of  God,  that  naught 
Could  bribe  to  sleep,  though  steeped  in  sorceries 
Of  hell,  and  much  abused  by  whisperings 
Of  evil  spirits  in  the  dark,  announced 


28  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

A  day  of  judgment  and  a  Judge,  a  day 

Of  misery  or  bliss :  and,  being  ill 

At  ease,  for  gods  they  chose  them  stocks  and  stones, 

Reptiles,  and  weeds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  things 

And  spirits  accursed,  ten  thousand  deities  ! 

Imagined  worse  than  he  who  craved  their  peace  j 

And,  bowing,  worshipped  these,  as  best  beseemed, 

With  midnight  revelry  obscene  and  loud, 

With  dark,  infernal,  devilish  ceremonies, 

And  horrid  sacrifice  of  human  flesh. 

That  made  the  fair  heavens  blush.     So  bad  was  sin ; 

So  lost,  so  ruined,  so  depraved  was  man, 

Created  first  in  God's  own  image  fair. 

Oh,  cursed,  cursed  Sin !  traitor  to  God, 
And  miner  of  man  !  mother  of  Wo, 
And  Death,  and  Hell !  wretched,  yet  seeking  worse  ', 
Polluted  most,  yet  wallowing  in  the  mire  ; 
Most  mad,  yet  drinking  Frenzy's  giddy  cup  ; 
Depth  ever  deepening,  darkness  darkening  still ; 
Folly  for  wisdom,  guilt  for  innocence  ; 
Anguish  for  rapture,  and  for  hope  despair  ', 
Destroyed,  destroying ;  in  tormenting,  pained ; 
Unawed  by  wrath,  by  mercy  unreclaimed ; 
Thing  most  unsightly,  most  forlorn,  most  sad. 
Thy  time  on  earth  is  passed,  thy  war  with  God 
And  holiness.    But  who,  oh,  who  shall  tell. 
Thy  unrepentable  and  ruinous  thoughts ! 
Thy  sighs,  thy  groans  !  who  reckon  thy  burning  tears, 
And  damned  looks  of  everlasting  grief. 
Where  now,  with  those  who  took  their  part  with  thee, 
Thou  sitt'st  in  hell,  gnawed  by  the  eternal  Worm, 
To  hurt  no  more,  on  all  the  holy  hills  ! 

That  those,  deserting  once  the  lamp  of  truth, 
Should  wander  ever  on,  from  worse  to  worse 
Erroneously,  thy  wonder  needs  not  ask  : 
But  that  enlightened,  reasonable  men, 


BOOK  II.  29 

Knowing  themselves  accountable,  to  whom 

God  spoke  from  heaven,  and  by  his  servants  warned, 

Both  day  and  night,  with  earnest,  pleading  voice, 

Of  retribution  equal  to  their  works. 

Should  persevere  in  evil,  and  be  lost, — 

This  strangeness,  this  unpardonable  guilt, 

Demands  an  answer,  which  my  song  unfolds, 

In  part,  directly;  but,  hereafter,  more. 

To  satisfy  thy  wonder,  thou  shalt  learn. 

Inferring  much  from  what  is  yet  to  sing. 

Know,  then,  of  men  who  sat  in  highest  place. 
Exalted,  and  for  sin  by  others  done 
Were  chargeable,  the  king  and  priests  were  chief. 
Many  were  faithful,  holy,  just,  upright. 
Faithful  to  God  and  man,  reigning  renowned 
In  righteousness,  and,  to  the  people,  loud 
And  fearless,  speaking  all  the  words  of  life. 
These,  at  the  judgment-day,  as  thou  shalt  hear. 
Abundant  harvest  reaped.     But  many,  too, 
Alas^  how  many  !   famous  now  in  hell, 
Were  wicked,  cruel,  tyrannous,  and  vile  ; 
Ambitious  of  themselves,  abandoned,  mad ; 
And  still  from  servants  hasting  to  be  gods. 
Such  gods  as  now  they  serve  in  Erebus. 
I  pass  their  lewd  example  by,  that  led 
So  many  wrong,  for  courtly  fashion  lost. 
And  prove  them  guilty  of  one  crime  alone. 
Of  every  wicked  ruler,  prince  supreme, 
Or  magistrjle  below,  the  one  intent. 
Purpose,  desire,  and  struggle,  day  and  night. 
Was  evermore  to  wrest  the  crown  from  off 
Messiah's  head,  and  put  it  on  his  own ; 
And  in  His  place  give  spiritual  laws  to  men  ; 
To  bind  religion,  free  by  birth,  by  God 
And  nature  free,  and  made  accountable 
To  none  but  God,  behind  the  wheels  of  state  ; 
To  make  the  holy  altar,  where  the  Prince 
3 


^0  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

~  Of  life,  incarnate,  bled  to  ransom  man, 
A  footstool  to  the  throne.    For  this  they  met, 
Assembled,  counselled,  meditated,  planned; 

y  Devised  in  open  and  secret ;  and  for  this 
Enacted  creeds  of  wondrous  texture,  creeds 
The  Bible  never  owned,  unsanctioned  too. 
And  reprobate  in  heaven ;  but  by  the  power 
That  made, — exerted  now  in  gentler  form, 
Monopolizing  rights  and  privileges. 
Equal  to  all,  and  waving  now  the  sword 
Of  persecution  fierce,  tempered  in  hell, — 
Forced  on  the  conscience  of  inferior  men  : 
The  conscience,  that  sole  monarchy  in  man, 
Owing  allegiance  to  no  earthly  prince  j 
Made  by  the  edict  of  creation  free  ; 
Made  sacred,  made  above  all  human  laws  ; 
Holding  of  heaven  alone  ;  of  most  divine 
And  indefeasible  authority ; 
An  individual  sovereignty,  that  none 
Created  might,  unpunished,  bind  or  touch  ; 
Unbouird,  save  by  the  eternal  laws  of  God, 
And  unamenable  to  all  below. 

Thus  did  the  uncircumcised  potentates 
Of  earth  debase  religion  in  the  sight 
Of  those  they  ruled,  who,  looking  up,  beheld 
The  fair  celestial  gift  despised,  enslaved  ; 
And,  mimicking  the  folly  of  the  great. 
With  prompt  docility  despised  her  too. 

The  prince  or  magistrate,  however  named 
Or  praised,  who,  knowing  better,  acted  thus, 
Was  wicked,  and  received,  as  he  deserved. 
Damnation.     But  the  unfaithful  priest,  what  tongue 
•  Enough  shall  execrate  .?     His  doctrine  may 
Be  passed,  though  mixed  with  most  unhallowed  leaven, 
That  proved,  to  those  who  foolishly  partook, 
Eternal  bitterness.    But  this  was  still 


31 


His  sin,  beneath  what  cloak  soever  veiled, 

His  ever  growing  and  perpetual  sin, 

First,  last,  and  middle  thought,  whence  every  wish, 

Whence  every  action  rose,  and  ended  both  : 

To  mount  to  place,  and  power  of  worldly  sort; 

To  ape  the  gaudy  pomp  and  equipage 

Of  earthly  state,  and  on  his  mitred  brow 

To  place  a  royal  crown.     For  this  he  sold 

The  sacred  truth  to  him  who  most  would  give 

Of  titles,  benefices,  honours,  names  ; 

For  this  betrayed  his  Master  ;  and  for  this  • 

Made  merchandise  of  the  immortal  souls 

Committed  to  his  care.    This  was  his  sin. 

Of  all  who  office  held  unfairly,  none 
Could  plead  excuse  ;  he  least  and  last  of  all. 
By  solemn,  awful  ceremony,  he 
Was  set  apart  to  speak  the  truth  entire, 
By  action  and  by  word ;  and  round  him  stood 
The  people,  from  his  lips  expecting  knowledge. 
One  day  in  seven,  the  Holy  Sabbath  termed, 
They  stood ;  for  he  had  sworn,  in  face  of  God 
And  man,  to  deal  sincerely  with  their  souls  ; 
To  preach  the  gospel  for  the  gospel's  sake  ; 
Had  sworn  to  hate  and  put  away  all  pride, 
All  vanity,  all  love  of  earthly  pomp  ; 
To  seek  all  mercy,  meekness,  truth,  and  grace ; 
And  being  so  endowed  himself,  and  taught, 
In  them  like  works  of  holiness  to  move  ; 
Dividing  faithfully  the  word  of  life. 
And  oft  indeed  the  word  of  life  he  taught ; 
But  practising  as  thou  hast  heard,  who  could 
Believe  ?  Thus  was  Religion  wounded  sore 
At  her  own  altars,  and  among  her  friends. 
The  people  went  away,  and,  like  the  priest, 
Fulfilling  what  the  prophet  spoke  before. 
For  honour  strove,  and  wealth,  and  place,  as  if 
The  preacher  had  rehearsed  an  idle  tale. 


32  THE  COURSE    OF  TIME. 

The  enemies  of  God  rejoiced,  and  loud 
The  unbelieyer  laughed,  boasting  a  life  ^ 

Of  fairer  character  than  his,  who  owned, 
For  king  and  guide,  the  undefiled  One. 

Most  guilty,  villanous,  dishonest  man ! 
Wolf  in  the  clothing  of  the  gentle  lamb  ! 
Park  traitor  in  Messiah's  holy  camp  ! 
Leper  in  saintly  garb  !  assassin  masked 
In  Virtue's  robe  !  vile  hypocrite  accursed ! 
I  strive  in  vain  to  set  his  evil  forth ! 
The  words  that  should  sufficiently  accurse 
And  execrate  such  reprobate,  had  need 
Come  glowing  from  the  lips  of  eldest  hell. 
Among  the  saddest  in  the  den  of  wo,  [damned. 

Thou    sawst   him  saddest,   'mong   the    damned,   most 

But  why  should  I  with  indignation  burn, 
Not  well  beseeming  here,  and  long  forgot  ? 
Or  why  one  censure  for  another's  sin  ? 
Each  had  his  conscience,  each  his  reason,  will. 
And  understanding,  for  himself  to  search. 
To  choose,  reject,  believe,  consider,  act. 
And  God  proclaimed  from  heaven,  and  by  an  oath 
Confirmed,  that  each  should  answer  for  himself: 
And  as  his  own  peculiar  work  should  be,  ' 

Done  by  his  proper  self,  should  live  or  die. 
But  sin,  deceitful  and  deceiving  still, 
Had  gained  the  heart,  and  reason  led  astray. 

A  strange  belief,  that  leaned  its  idiot  back 
On  folly's  topmost  twig, — belief  that  God, 
Most  wise,  had  made  a  world,  had  creatures  made. 
Beneath  his  care  to  govern  and  protect, — 
Devoured  its  thousands.     Reason,  not  the  true. 
Learned,  deep,  sober,  comprehensive,  sound; 
But  bigoted,  one-eyed,  short-sighted  Reason, 
Most  zealous,  and  sometimes,  no  doubt,  sincere, 


BOOK  II.  33 

Devoured  its  thousands.    Vanity  to  be 
Renowned  for  creed  eccentrical,  devoured 
Its  thousands ;  but  a  lazy,  corpulent, 
And  over-credulous  faith,  that  leaned  on  all 
It  met,  nor  asked  if  'twas  a  reed  or  oak  ; 
Stepped  on,  but  never  earnestly  inquired 
Whether  to  heaven  or  hell  the  journey  led, 
Devoured  its  tens  of  thousands,  and  its  hands 
Meide  reddest  in  the  precious  blood  of  souls. 

In  Time's  pursuits  men  ran  till  out  of  breath. 
The  astronomer  soared  up,  and  counted  stars, 
And  gazed,  and  gazed  upon  the  heaven's  bright  face, 
Till  he  dropped  down  dim-eyed  into  the  grave. 
The  numerist,  in  calculations  deep. 
Grew  gray.  The  merchant  at  his  desk  expired. 
The  statesman  hunted  for  another  place, 
Till  death  o'ertook  him,  and  made  him  his  prey. 
The  miser  spent  his  eldest  energy 
In  grasping  for  another  mite*.    The  scribe 
Rubbed  pensively  his  old  and  withered  brow, 
Devising  new  impediments  to  hold 
In  doubt,  the  suit  that  threatened  to  end  too  soon. 
The  priest  collected  tithes,  and  pleaded  rights 
Of  decimation  to  the  very  last. 
In  science,  learning,  all  philosophy. 
Men  laboured  all  their  days,  and  laboured  hard, 
And,  dying,  sighed  how  little  they  had  done. 
But  in  religion,  they  at  once  grew  wise. 
A  creed  in  print,  though  never  understood ; 
A  theologic  system  on  the^helf. 
Was  spiritual  lore  enough^nd  served  their  turn ; 
But  served  it  ill.    They  sinned,  and  never  knew. 
For  what  the  Bible  said  of  good  and  bad, 
Of  holiness  and  sin,  they  never  asked. 

Absurd,  prodigiously  absurd,  to  think 
That  man's  minute  and  feeble  faculties. 


34  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

Even  in  the  very  childhood  of  his  being, 

With  mortal  shadows  dimmed  and  wrapped  around, 

Could  comprehend  at  once  the  mighty  scheme, 

Where  rolled  the  ocean  of  eternal  love  ; 

Where  wisdom  infinite  its  master-stroke 

Displayed;  and  where  omnipotence,  oppressed, 

Did  travail  in  the  greatness  of  its  strength ; 

And  everlasting  justice  lifted  up 

The  sword  to  smite  the  guiltless  Son  of  God ; 

And  mercy  smiling  bade  the  sinner  go  ! 

Redemption  is  the  science  and  the  song 

Of  all  eternity.     Archangels  day 

And  night  into  its  glories  look.     The  saints, 

The  elders  round  the  Throne,  old  in  the  years 

Of  heaven,  examine  it  perpetually  ; 

And,  every  hour,  get  clearer,  ampler  views 

Of  right  and  wrong ;  see  virtue's  beauty  more  ; 

See  vice  more  utterly  depraved  and  vile ; 

And  this,  with  a  more  perfect  hatred,  hate ; 

That  daily  love  with  a  more  perfect  love. 

But  whether  I  for  man's  perdition  blame 
Office  administered  amiss,  pursuit 
Of  pleasure  false,  perverted  reason  blind, 
Or  indolence  that  ne'er  inquired ;  I  blame 
Effect  and  consequence,  the  branch,  the  leaf. 
Who  finds  the  fount  and  bitter  root,  the  first 
And  guiltiest  cause  whence  sprung  this  endless  wo, 
Must  deep  descend  into  the  human  heart, 
And  find  it  there.    Dread  passion !  making  men 
On  earth,  and  even  in  hell,  if  Mercy  yet 
Would  stoop  so  low,  unwilli%  to  be  saved, 
If  saved  by  grace  of  God.     Hear,  then,  in  brief. 
What  peopled  hell,  what  holds  its  prisoners  there. 

Pride,  self-adoring  pride,  was  primal  cause 
Of  all  sin  passed,  all  pain,  all  wo  to  come. 
Unconquerable  pride  !  first,  eldest  sin, 


35 


Great  fountain-head  of  evil !  highest  source, 

"Whence  flowed  rebellion  'gainst  the  Omnipotent, 

Whence  hate  of  man  to  man,  and  all  else  ill.  ,   - 

Pride  at  the  bottom  of  the  hiunan  heart  , 

Lay,  and  gave  root  and  nourishment  to  all 

That  grew  above.     Great  ancestor  of  vice  ! 

Hate,  unbelief,  and  blasphemy  of  God  ; 

Envy  and  slander,  malice  and  revenge  ; 

And  murder,  and  deceit,  and  every  birth 

Of  damned  sort,  was  progeny  of  pride. 

It  was  the  ever-moving,  acting  force. 

The  constant  aim,  and  the  most  thirsty  wish 

Of  every  sinner  unrenewed,  to  be 

A  god ;  in  purple  or  in  rags,  to  have 

Himself  adored.    Whatever  shape  or  form 

His  actions  took,  whatever  phrase  he  threw 

About  his  thoughts,  or  mantle  o'er  his  life, 

To  be  the  highest,  was  the  inward  cause 

Of  all ;  the  purpose  of  the  heart  to  be 

Set  up,  admired,  obeyed.    But  who  would  bow 

The  knee  to  one  who  served  and  was  dependent  ? 

Hence  man's  perpetual  struggle,  night  and  day, 

To  prove  he  was  his  own  proprietor, 

And  independent  of  his  God,  that  what 

He  had  might  be  esteemed  his  own,  and  praised 

As  such.     He  laboured  still  and  tried  to  stand 

Alone,  unpropped,  to  be  obliged  to  none  ; 

And  in  the  madness  of  his  pride,  he  bade 

His  God  farewell,  and  turned  away  to  be 

A  god  himself:  resolving  to  rely. 

Whatever  came,  upon  his  own  right  hand. 

O  desperate  frenzy !  madness  of  the  will  \ 
And  drunkenness  of  the  heart !  that  naught  could  quench 
But  floods  of  wo,  poured  from  the  sea  of  wrath, 
Behind  which  mercy  set.     To  think  to  turn 
The  back  on  life  original,  and  live  ! 
The  creature  to  set  up  a  rival  throne 


36  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

In  the  Creator's  realm !  to  deify 
A  worm !  and  in  the  sight  of  God  be.  proud ! 
To  lift  an  arm  of  flesh  against  the  shafts 
Of  the  Omnipotent,  and,  midst  his  wrath, 
To  seek  for  happiness  ! — insanity- 
Most  mad !    guilt  most  complete !      Seest  thou  those 

worlds 
That  roll  at  various  distance  round  the  throne 
Of  God,  innumerous,  and  fill  the  calm 
Of  heaven  with  sweetest  harmony,  when  saints 
And  angels  sleep  ?    As  one  of  these,  from  love 
Centripetal,  withdrawing,  and  from  light, 
And  heat,  and  nourishment  cut  off,  should  rush 
Abandoned  o'er  the  line  that  runs  between 
Create  and  increate,  from  ruin  driven 
To  ruin  still,  through  the  abortive  waste ', 
So  pride  from  God  drew  off  the  bad ;  and  so 
Forsaken  of  him,  he  lets  them  ever  try 
Their  single  arm  against  the  second  death  j 
Amidst  vindictive  thunders  lets  them  try 
The  stoutness  of  their  hearts,  and  lets  them  try 
To  quench  their  thirst  amidst  the  unfading  fire ; 
Andjto  reap  joy  where  he  has  sown  despair ; 
To  walk  alone,  unguided,  unbemoaned, 
Where  Evil  dwells,  and  Death,  and  moral  Night ; 
In  utter  emptiness  to  find  enough ; 
In  utter  dark  find  light ;  and  find  repose, 
Where  God  with  tempest  plagues  for  evermore. 
For  so  they  wished  it,  so  did  pride  desire. 

Such  was  the  cause  that  turned  so  many  ©fF 
Rebelliously  from  God,  and  led  them  on 
From  vain  to  vainer  still,  in  endless  chase. 
And  such  the  cause  that  made  so  many  cheeks 
Pale,  and  so  many  knees  to  shake,  when  men 
Rose  from  the  grave ',  as  thou  shalt  hear  anon. 


THE 


COURSE   OF  TIME, 


BOOK  III. 


Beholdst  thou  yonder,  on  the  crystal  sea, 
Beneath  the  throne  of  God,  an  image  fair,  Si 

And  in  its  hand  a  mirror  large  and  bright  ? 
'Tis  truth,  immutable,  eternal  truth, 
In  figure  emblematical  expressed. 
Before  it  Virtue  stands,  and  smiling  sees, 
Well  pleased,  in  her  reflected  soul,  no  spot. 
The  sons  of  heaven,  archangel,  seraph,  saint, 
There  daily  read  their  own  essential  worth ; 
And,  as  they  read,  take  place  among  the  just ; 
Or  high,  or  low,  each  as  his  value  seems. 
There  each  his  certain  interest  learns,  his  true 
Capacity  ;  and,  going  thence,  pursues, 
Unerringly,  through  all  the  tracts  of  thought, 
As  God  ordains,  best  ends  by  wisest  means. 

The  Bible  held  this  mirror's  place  on  earth. 
But,  few  would  read,  or,  reading,  saw  themselves. 
The  chase  was  after  shadows,  phantoms  strange, 
That  in  the  twilight  walked  of  Time,  and  mocked 
The  eager  hunt,  escaping  evermore. 
Yet  with  so  many  promises  and  looks 
Of  gentle  sort,  that  he  whose  arms  returned 
Empty  a  thousand  times,  still  stretched  them  out, 
And,  grasping,  brought  them  back  again  unfilled. 
4 


38  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

In  rapid  outline  thou  hast  heard  of  man, 
His  death,  his  offered  hfe,  that  life  by  most 
Despised,  the  Star  of  God,  the  Bible,  scorned, 
That  else  to  happiness  and  heaven  had  led, 
And  saved  my  lyre  from  narrative  of  wo. 
Hear  now  more  largely  of  the  ways  of  Time, 
The  fond  pursuits  and  vanities  of  men. 

"  Love  God,  love  truth,  love  virtue,  and  be  happy  ; 
These  were  the  words  first  uttered  in  the  ear 
Of  every  being  rational  made,  and  made 
For  thought,  or  word,  or  deed  accountable. 
Most  men  the  first  forgot,  the  second  none. 
Whatever  path  they  took,  by  hill  or  vale, 
By  night  or  day,  the  universal  wish. 
The  aim,  and  sole  intent,  was  happiness. 
But,  erring  from  the  heaven-appointed  path, 
Strange  tracks  indeed  they  took  through  barren  wastes. 
And  up  the  sandy  mountain  climbing  toiled. 
Which  pining  lay  beneath  the  curse  of  God, 
And  naught  produced.     Yet  did  the  traveller  look 
And  point  his  eye  before  him  greedily. 
As  if  he  saw  some  verdant  spot,  where  grew  ^ 

The  heavenly  flower,  where  sprung  the  well  of  life  ? 
Where  undisturbed  felicity  reposed ; 
Though  Wisdom's  eye  no  vestige  cOuld  discern, 
That  Happiness  had  ever  passed  that  way. 

Wisdom  was  right,  for  still  the  terms  remained 
Unchanged,  unchangeable,  the  terms  on  which 
True  peace  was  given  to  man,  unchanged  as  God, 
Who,  in  his  own  essential  nature,  binds 
Eternally  to  virtue  happiness, 
Nor  lets  them  part  through  all  his  universe. 

Philosophy,  as  thou  shalt  hear,  when  she 
Shall  have  her  praise,  her  praise  and  censure  too, 
Did  much,  refining  and  exalting  man  ; 


BOOK    III.  39 

But  could  not  nurse  a  single  plant  that  bore 

True  happiness.    From  age  to  age  she  toiled, 

Shed  from  her  eyes  the  mist  that  dimmed  them  still, 

Looked  forth  on  man,  explored  the  wild  and  tame. 

The  savage  and  polite,  the  sea  and  land, 

And  starry  heavens ;  and  then  retired  far  back 

To  meditation's  silent,  shady  seat ; 

And  there  sat  pale,  and  thoughtfully,  and  weighed 

With  wary,  most  exact,  and  scrupulous  care, 

Man's  nature,  passions,  hopes,  propensities. 

Relations,  and  pursuits,  in  reason's  scale  ; 

And  searched  and  weighed,  and  weighed  and  searched 

again, 
And  many  a  fair  and  goodly  volume  wrote, 
That  seemed  well  worded  too,  wherein  "^ere  found 
Uncountable  receipts,  pretending  each, 
If  carefully  attended  to,  to  cure 
Mankind  of  folly,  to  root  out  the  briers. 
And  thorns,  and  weeds,  that  choked  the  growth  of  joy  ; 
And  showing  too,  in  plain  and  decent  phrase, 
Which  sounded  much  like  Wisdom's,  how  to  plant. 
To  shelter,  water,  culture,  prune,  and  rear 
The  tree  of  happiness  ;  and  ofl  their  plans 
Were  tried ;  but  still  the  fruit  was  green  and  sour. 

Of  all  the  trees  that  in  Earth's  vineyard  grew, 
And  with  their  clusters  tempted  man  to  pull 
And  eat,  one  tree,  one  tree  alone,  the  true 
Celestial  manna  bore,  which  filled  the  soul, 
The  tree  of  holiness,  of  heavenly  seed, 
A  native  of  the  skies ;  though  stunted  much 
And  dwarfed,  by  Time's  cold,  damp,  ungenial  soil, 
And  chilling  winds,  yet  yielding  fruit  so  pure, 
So  nourishing  and  sweet,  as,  on  his  way, 
Refreshed  the  pilgrim  ;  and  begot  desire 
Unquenchable  to  climb  the  arduous  path 
To  where  her  sister  plants,  in  their  own  clime, 
Around  the  fount,  and  by  the  stream  of  life, 


40  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Blooming  beneath  the  Sun  that  never  sets, 
Bear  fruit  of  perfect  rehsh  fully  ripe. 

To  plant  this  tree,  uprooted  by  the  fall, 
To  earth  the  Son  of  God  descended,  shed 
His  precious  blood ;  and  on  it  evermore, 
From  off  his  living  wings,  the  Spirit  shook 
The  dews  of  heaven,  to  nurse  and  hasten  its  growtli. 
Nor  was  this  care,  this  infinite  expense, 
Not  needed  to  secure  the  holy  plant. 
To  root  it  out,  and  wither  it  from  earth, 
Hell  strove  with  all  its  strength,  and  blew  with  all 
Its  blasts !  and  Sin,  with  cold,  consumptive  breath, 
Involved  it  still  in  clouds  of  mortal  damp. 
Yet  did  it  grow,  thus  kept,  protected  thus ; 
And  bear  the  only  fruit  of  true  delight ; 
The  only  fruit  worth  plucking  under  heaven. 

But,  few,  alas !  the  holy  plant  could  see, 
For  heavy  mists  that  Sin  around  it  threw 
Perpetually  ;  and  few  the  sacrifice 
Would  make,  by  which  alone  its  clusters  stooped, 
And  came  within  the  reach  of  mortal  man. 
For  this,  of  him  who  would  approach  and  eat, 
Was  rigorously  exacted  to  the  full : 
To  tread  and  bruise  beneath  the  foot  the  world 
Entire  ;  its  prides,  ambitions,  hopes,  desires ; 
Its  gold  and  all  its  broidered  equipage  ; 
To  loose  its  loves  and  friendships  from  the  heart, 
And  cast  them  off;  to  shut  the  ear  against 
Its  praise,  and  all  its  flatteries  abhor  ; 
And,  having  thus  behind  him  thrown  what  seemed 
So  good  and  fair,  then  must  he  lowly  kneel, 
And  with  sincerity,  in  which  the  Eye 
That  slumbers  not,  nor  sleeps,  could  see  no  lack, 
This  prayer  pray  :  "  Lord,  God  !  thy  will  be  done. 
Thy  holy  wfll,  howe'er  it  cross  my  own." 
Hard  labour  this  for  flesh  and  blood  !  too  hard 


41 


For  most  it  seemed.     So,  turning,  they  the  tree 

Derided  as  mere  bramble,  that  could  bear 

No  fruit  of  special  taste ;  and  so  set  out 

Upon  ten  thousand  different  routes  to  seek 

What  they  had  left  behind,  to  seek  what  they 

Had  lost.     For  still  as  something  once  possessed 

And  lost,  true  happiness  appeared.     All  thought 

They  once  were  happy  ;  and  even  while  they  smoked 

And  panted  in  the  chase,  believed  themselves 

More  miserable  to-day  than  yesterday, 

To-morrow  than  to-day.     When  youth  complained, 

The  ancient  sinner  shook  his  hoary  head. 

As  if  he  meant  to  say,  Stop  till  you  come 

My  length,  and  then  you  may  have  cause  to  sigh. 

At  twenty,  cried  the  boy,  who  now  had  seen 

Some  blemish  in  his  joys.  How  happily 

Plays  yonder  child  that  busks  the  mimic  babe, 

And  gathers  gentle  flowers,  and  never  sighs  ! 

At  forty,  in  the  fervour  of  pursuit. 

Far  on  in  disappointment's  dreary  vale, 

The  grave  and  sage-like  man  looked  back  upon 

The  stripling  youth  of  plump  unseared  hope, 

Who  galloped  gay  and  briskly  up  behind. 

And,  moaning,  wished  himself  eigliteen  again. 

And  he,  of  threescore  years  and  ten,  in  whose 

Chilled  eye,  fatigued  with  gaping  afler  hope, 

Earth's  freshest  verdure  seemed  but  blasted  leaves, 

Praised  childhood,  youth,  and  manhood  j  and  denounced 

Old  age  alone  as  barren  of  all  joy. 

Decisive  proof  that  men  had  lefl  behind 

The  happiness  they  sought,  and  taken  a  most 

Erroneous  path  ;  since  every  step  they  took 

Was  deeper  mire.    Yet  did  they  onward  run, 

Pursuing  Hope  that  danced  before  them  still, 

And  beckoned  them  to  proceed  ;  and  with  their  hands, 

That  shook  and  trembled  piteously  with  age. 

Grasped  at  the  lying  Shade,  even  till  the  earth 

Beneath  them  broke,  and  wrapped  them  in  the  grave. 


42  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Sometimes  indeed,  when  Wisdom  in  their  ear 
Whispered,  and  with  its  disenchanting  wand. 
Effectually  touched  the  sorcery  of  their  eyes, 
Directly  pointing  to  the  holy  tree. 
Where  grew  the  food  they  sought,  they  turned,  sur 

prised. 
That  they  had  missed  so  long  what  now  they  found 
As  one  upon  whose  mind  some  new  and  rare 
Idea  glances,  and  retires  as  quick, 
Ere  memory  has  time  to  write  it  down ; 
Stung  with  the  loss,  into  a  thoughtful  cast, 
He  throws  his  face,  and  rubs  his  vexed  brow  ; 
Searches  each  nook  and  corner  of  his  soul 
With  frequent  care  ;  reflects,  and  re-reflects, 
And  tries  to  touch  relations  that  may  start 
The  fugitive  again  ;  and  ofl  is  foiled  ; 
Till  something  like  a  seeming  chance,  or  flight 
Of  random  fancy,  when  expected  least, 
,  Calls  back  the  wandered  thought,  long  sought  in  vain ; 
Then  does  uncommon  joy  fill  all  his  mind  ; 
And  still  he  wonders,  as  he  holds  it  fast. 
What  lay  so  near  he  could  not  sooner  find  : 
So  did  the  man  rejoice,  when  from  his  eye 
The  film  of  folly  fell,  and  what  he,  day 
And  night,  and  far  and  near,  had  idly  searched, 
Sprung  up  before  him  suddenly  displayed  ; 
So  wondered  why  he  missed  the  tree  so  long. 

But,  few  returned  from  folly's  giddy  chase, 
Few  heard  the  voice  of  Wisdom,  or  obeyed. 
Keen  was  the  search,  and  various,  and  wide, 
Without,  within,  along  the  flowery  vale, 
And  up  the  rugged  cliff,  and  on  the  top 
Of  mountains  high,  and  on  the  ocean  wave. 
Keen  was  the  search,  and  various,  and  wide, 
And  ever  and  anon  a  shout  was  heard  : 
'*Ho  !  here's  the  tree  of  life  !  come,  eat,  and  live  1" 
And  round  the  new  discoverer  quick  they  flocked 


43 


In  multitudes,  and  plucked,  and  with  great  haste 
Devoured ;  and  sometimes  in  the  lips  'twas  sweet, 
And  promised  well ;  but,  in  the  belly  gall. 
Yet  after  him  that  cried  again.  Ho  !  here's 
The  tree  of  life  !  again  they  ran,  and  pulled, 
And  chewed  again,  and  found  it  bitter  still. 
From  disappointment  on  to  disappointment, 
Year  after  year,  age  after  age,  pursued. 
The  child,  the  youth,  the  hoary-headed  man, 
Alike  pursued,  and  ne'er  grew  wise.    For  it 
Was  folljfc's  most  peculiar  attribute. 
And  native  act,  to  make  experience  void. 

But  hastily,  as  pleasures  tasted,  turned 
To  loathing  and  disgust,  they  needed  not 
Even  such  experiment  to  prove  them  vain. 
In  hope  or  in  possession.  Fear,  alike. 
Boding  disaster,  stood.     Over  the  flower 
Of  fairest  sort,  that  bloomed  beneath  the  sun, 
Protected  most,  and  sheltered  from  the  storm. 
The  Spectre,  like  a  d«,rk  and  thunderous  cloud. 
Hung  dismally,  and  threatened,  before  the  hand 
Of  him  that  wished,  could  pull  it|^4o  descend, 
And  o'er  the  desert  drive  its  withered  leaves ; 
Or,  being  pulled,  to  blast  it  unenjoyed. 
While  yet  he  gazed  upon  its  lovelines 
And  just  began  to  drink  its  fragrance  up. 

Gold  many  hunted,  sweat  and  bled  IDr  gold; 
Waked  all  the  night,  and  laboured  all  the  day. 
And  what  was  this  allurement  dost  thou  ask  ? 
A  dust  dug  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
Which,  being  cast  into  the  fire,  came  out 
A  shining  thing  that  fools  admired,  and  called 
A  god  ;  and  in  devout  and  humble  plight 
Before  it  kneeled,  the  greater  to  the  less  ; 
And  on  its  altar  sacrificed  ease,  peace. 
Truth,  faith,  integrity  ;  good  conscience,  fHends, 


44  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

Love,  charity,  benevolence,  and  all 

The  sweet  and  tender  sympathies  of  life ; 

And,  to  complete  the  horrid  murderous  rite, 

And  signalize  their  folly,  offered  up 

Their  souls  and  an  eternity  of  bliss. 

To  gain  them — what  r — an  hour  of  dreaming  joy, 

A  feverish  hour  that  hasted  to  be  done. 

And  ended  in  the  bitterness  of  wo. 

Most,  for  the  luxuries  it  bought,  the  pomp, 
The  praise,  the  glitter,  fashion,  and  renown, 
This  yellow  phantom  followed  and  adored. 
But  there  was  one  in  folly  farther  gone. 
With  eye  awry,  incurable,  and  wild. 
The  laughing-stock  of  devils  and  of  men, 
And  by  his  guardian  angel  quite  given  up, — 
The  miser,  who  with  dust  inanimc^te 
Held  wedded  intercourse.     Ill  guided  wretch ! 
Thou  mightst  have  seen  him  at  the  midnight  hour, 
When  good  men  slept,  and  in  light  winged  dreams 
Ascended  up  to  God, — in  wasteful  hall. 
With  vigilance  and  fasting  worn  to  skin 
And  bone,  and  wrapped  in  most  debasing  rags, — 
Thou  mightst  have  seen  him  bending  o'er  his  heaps, 
And  holding  strange  communion  with  his  gold  ; 
And  as  his  thievish  fancy  seemed  to  hear 
The  night-man's  foot  approach,  starting  alarmed, 
And  in  his  old,  decrepit,  withered  hand. 
That  palsy  shook,  grasping  the  yellow  earth 
To  make  it  sure.     Of  all  God  made  upright, 
And  in  their  nostrils  breathed  a  living  soul, 
Most  fallen,  most  prone,  most  earthy,  most  debased; 
Of  all  that  sold  Eternity  for  Time, 
None  bargained  on  so  easy  terms  with  Death. 
Illustrious  fool !  nay,  most  inhuman  wretch  ! 
He  sat  among  his  bags,  and,  with  a  look 
Which  hell  might  be  ashamed  of,  drove  the  poor 


BOOK   III.  49 

Away  unalmsed,  and  midst  abundance  died, 
Sorest  of  evils  !  died  of  utter  want. 

Before  this  Shadow,  in  the  vales  of  earth, 
Fools  saw  another  glide,  which  seemed  of  more 
Intrinsic  worth.     Pleasure  her  name ;  good  name, 
Though  ill  applied.     A  thousand  forms  she  took, 
A  thousand  garbs  she  wore  ;  in  every  age 
And  clime,  changing,  as  in  her  votaries  changed 
Desire  ;  but,  inwardly,  the  same  in  all. 
Her  most  essential  lineaments  we  trace  j 
Her  general  features  everywhere  alike. 

Of  comely  form  she  was,  and  fair  of  face ; 
And  underneath  her  eyelids  sat  a  kind 
Of  witching  sorcery  that  nearer  drew 
Whoever,  with  unguarded  look,  beheld ; 
A  dress  of  gaudy  hue  loosely  attired 
Her  loveliness ;  her  air  and  manner  frank. 
And  seeming  free  of  all  disguise  ;  her  song 
Enchanting ;  and  her  words,  which  sweetly  dropped, 
As  honey  from  the  comb,  most  large  of  promise, 
Still  prophesying  days  of  new  delight, 
And  rapturous  nights  of  undecaying  joy ; 
And  in  her  hand,  where'er  she  went,  she  held 
A  radiant  cup  that  seemed  of  nectar  full ; 
And  by  her  side,  danced  fair,  delusive  Hope. 
The  fool  pursued,  enamoured ;  and  the  wise 
Experienced  man,  who  reasoned  much  and  thought, 
Was  sometimes  seen  laying  his  wisdom  down, 
And  vying  with  the  stripling  in  the  chase. 

Nor  wonder  thou,  for  she  was  really  fair, 
Decked  to  the  very  taste  of  flesh  and  blood, 
And  many  thought  her  sound  within,  and  gay 
And  healthy  at  the  heart :  but  thought  amiss. 
For  she  was  full  of  all  disease  :  her  bones 
Were  rotten ;  Consumption  licked  her  blood,  and  drank 


46  THE    COURSE   OF    TIME. 

Her  marrow  up  ;  her  breath  smelled  mortally  ; 
And  in  her  bowels  plague  and  fever  lurked  ', 
And  in  her  very  heart,  and  reins,  and  life, 
Corruption's  worm  gnawed  greedily  unseen. 

Many  her  haunts.     Thou  mightst  have  seen  her  now 
With  Indolence,  lolling  on  the  mid-day  couch, 
And  whispering  drowsy  words ;  and  now  at  dawn, 
Loudly  and  rough,  joining  the  sylvan  horn  ; 
Or  sauntering  in  the  park,  and  to  the  tale 
Of  slander  giving  ear  ;  or  sitting  fierce. 
Rude,  blasphemous,  malicious,  raving,  mad, 
Where  fortune  to  the  fickle  die  was  bound. 

But  chief  she  loved  the  scene  of  deep  debauch, 
Where  revelry,  and  dance,  and  frantic  song, 
Disturbed  the  sleep  of  honest  men  ;  and  where 
The  drunkard  sat,  she  entered  in,  well  pleased, 
With  eye  brimful  of  wanton  mirthfulness, 
And  urged  him  still  to  fill  another  cup. 

And  at  the  shadowy  twilight,  in  the  dark 
And  gloomy  night,  I  looked,   and  saw  her  come 
Abroad,  arrayed  in  harlot's  soft  attire  ; 
And  walk  without  in  every  street,  and  lie 
In  wait  at  every  corner,  full  of  guile  : 
And  as  the  unwary  youth  of  simple  heart, 
And  void  of  understanding,  passed,  she  caught 
And  kissed  him,  and  with  lips  of  lying  said, 
I  have  peace-offerings  with  me  ;  I  have  paid 
My  vows  this  day ;  and  therefore  came  I  forth 
To  meet  thee,  and  to  seek  thee  diligently. 
To  seek  thy  face,  and  I  have  found  thee  here. 
My  bed  is  decked  with  robes  of  tapestry, 
With  carved  work  and  sheets  of  linen  fine  ; 
Perfumed  with  aloes,  myrrh,  and  cinnamon. 
Sweet  are  stolen  waters  !  pleasant  is  the  bread 
In  secret  eaten  !  the  goodman  is  from  home. 


BOOK    III.  47 

Come,  let  us  take  our  fill  of  love  till  morn 

Awake  ;  let  us  delight  ourselves  with  loves. 

With  much  fair  speech,  she  caused  the  youth  to  yield  ; 

And  forced  him  with  the  flattering  of  her  tongue. 

I  looked,  and  saw  him  follow  to  her  house, 

As  goes  the  ox  to  slaughter  ;  as  the  fool 

To  the  correction  of  the  stocks  ;  or  bird 

That  hastes  into  the  subtle  fowler's  snare. 

And  knows  not,  simple  thing,  'tis  for  its  life. 

I  saw  him  enter  in,  and  heard  the  door 

Behind  them  shut ;  and  in  the  dark,  still  night, 

When  God's  unsleeping  eye  alone  can  see, 

He  went  to  her  adulterous  bed.     At  morn 

I  looked,  and  saw  him  not  among  the  youths. 

I  heard  his  father  mourn,  his  mother  weep. 

For  none  returned  that  went  with  her.     The  dead 

Were  in  her  house,  her  guests  in  depths  of  hell. 

She  wove  the  winding-sheet  of  souls,  and  laid 

Them  in  the  urn  of  everlasting  death. 

Such  was  the  Shadow  fools  pursued  on  earth, 
Under  the  name  of  pleasure  ;  fair  outside, 
Within  corrupted,  and  corrupting  still. 
Ruined  and  ruinous,  her  sure  reward. 
Her  total  recompense,  was  still,  as  he, 
The  bard,  recorder  of  Earth's  Seasons,  sung, 
*^  Vexation,  disappointment,  and  remorse." 
Yet  at  her  door  the  young  and  old,  and  some 
Who  held  high  character  among  the  wise, 
Together  stood,  and  strove  among  themselves, 
Who  first  should  enter,  and  be  ruined  first. 

Strange  competition  of  immortal  souls ! 
To  sweat  for  death  !  to  strive  for  misery  ! 
But  think  not  Pleasure  told  her  end  was  death. 
Even  human  folly  then  had  paused  at  least, 
And  given  some  signs  of  hesitation  ;  nor 
Arrived  so  hot,  and  out  of  breath,  at  wo. 


4S  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Though  contradicted  every  day  by  facts 

That  sophistry  itself  would  stumble  o'er, 

And  to  the  very  teeth  a  liar  proved, 

Ten  thousand  times,  as  if  unconscious  still 

Of  inward  blame,  she  stood  and  waved  her  hand, 

And  pointed  to  her  bower,  and  said  to  all 

Who  passed,  Take  yonder  flowery  path,  my  steps 

Attend  ;  I  lead  the  smoothest  way  to  heaven  ; 

This  world  receive  as  surety  for  the  next : 

And  many  simple  men,  most  simple,  though 

Renowned  for  learning  much,  and  wary  skill, 

Believed,  and  turned  aside,  and  were  undone. 

Another  leaf  of  finished  Time  we  turn. 
And  read  of  fame,  terrestrial  fame,  which  died, 
And  rose  not  at  the  resurrection  morn  ; 
Not  that  by  virtue  earned,  the  true  renown, 
Begun  on  earth,  and  lasting  in  the  skies, 
^  Worthy  the  lofty  wish  of  seraphim, — 
The  approbation  of  the  Eye  that  sees 
The  end  from  the  beginning,  sees  from  cause 
To  most  remote  effect.     Of  it  we  read 
In  book  of  God's  remembrance,  in  the  book 
Of  life,  from  which  the  quick  and  dead  were  judged  ; 
The  book  that  lies  upon  the  Throne,  and  tells 
Of  glorious  acts  by  saints  and  angels  done ; 
The  record  of  the  holy,  just,  and  good. 

Of  all  the  phantoms  fleeting  in  the  mist 
Of  Time,  though  meagre  all,  and  ghostly  thin, 
Most  unsubstantial,  unessential  shade 
Was  earthly  Fame.     She  was  a  voice  alone, 
And  dwelt  upon  the  noisy  tongues  of  men. 
She  never  thought,  but  gabbled  ever  on. 
Applauding  most  what  least  deserved  applause. 
The  motive,  the  result,  was  naught  to  her. 
The  deed  alone,  though  dyed  in  human  gore, 
And  steeped  in  widow's  tears,  if  it  stood  out 


49 


To  prominent  display,  she  talked  of  much, 
And  roared  around  it  with  a  thousand  tongues. 
As  changed  the  wind  her  organ,  so  she  changed 
Perpetually  ;  and  whom  she  praised  to-day. 
Vexing  his  ear  with  acclamations  loud, 
To-morrow  blamed,  and  hissed  him  out  of  sight. 

Such  was  her  nature,  and  her  practice  such. 
But,  O  !  her  voice  was  sweet  to  mortal  ears. 
And  touched  so  pleasantly  the  strings  of  pride 
A.nd  vanity,  which  in  the  heart  of  man 
Were  ever  strung  harmonious  to  her  note, 
That  many  thought,  to  live  without  her  song 
Was  rather  death  than  life.     To  live  unknown, 
Unnoticed,  unrenowned  !  to  die  unpraised, 
Unepitaphed  !  to  go  down  to  the  pit. 
And  moulder  into  dust  among  vile  worms, 
And  leave  no  whispering  of  a  name  on  earth  !  — 
Such  thought  was  cold  about  the  heart,  and  chilled 
The  blood.     Who  could  endure  it .''  who  could  choose, 
Without  a  struggle,  to  be  swept  away 
From  all  remembrance,  and  have  part  \io  more 
With  living  men  ?     Philosophy  failed  here. 
And  self- approving  pride.     Hence  it  became 
The  aim  of  most,  and  main  pursuit,  to  win 
A  name,  tc  leave  some  vestige  as  they  passed. 
That  following  ages  might  discern,  they  once 
Had  been  on  earth,  and  acted  something  there. 

Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried. 
The  man  of  science  to  the  shade  retired, 
And  laid  his  head  upon  his  hand,  in  mood 
Of  awful  thoughtfulness,  and  dived,  and  di'\!ed 
Again,  deeper  and  deeper  still,  to  sound 
The  cause  remote  ;  resolved,  before  he  died, 
To  make  some  grand  discovery,  by  which 
He  should  be  known  to  all  posterity. 
5 


50  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

And  in  the  silent  vigils  of  the  night, 
When  uninspired  men  reposed,  the  bard, 
Ghastly  of  countenance,  and  from  his  eye 
Oft  streaming  wild  unearthly  fire,  sat  up, 
And  sent  imagination  forth,  and  searched 
The  far  and  near,  heaven,  earth,  and  gloomy  hell, 
For  fiction  new,  for  thought,  unthought  befpre  j 
And  when  some  curious,  rare  idea  peered 
Upon  his  mind,  he  dipped  his  hasty  pen. 
And  by  the  glimmering  lamp,  or  moonlight  beam 
That  through  his  lattice  peeped,  wrote  fondly  down, 
What  seemed  in  truth  imperishable  song. 

And  sometimes  too,  the  reverend  divine. 
In  meditation  deep  of  holy  things 
And  vanities  of  Time,  heard  Fame's  sweet  voice 
Approach  his  ear  ;  and  hung  another  flower, 
Of  earthly  sort,  about  the  sacred  truth  ; 
And  ventured  whiles  to  mix  the  bitter  text. 
With  relish  suited  to  the  sinner's  taste. 

And  oft-times  too,  the  simple  hind,  who  seemed 
Ambitionless,  arrayed  in  humble  garb, 
While  round  him,  spreading,  fed  his  harmless  flock, 
Sitting  was  seen,  by  some  wild  warbling  brook, 
Carving  his  name  upon  his  favourite  staff" j 
Or,  in  ill-favoured  letters,  tracing  it 
Upon  the  aged  thorn,  or  on  the  face 
Of  some  conspicuous,  oft-frequented  stone. 
With  persevering,  wondrous  industry  ; 
And  hoping,  as  he  toiled  amain,  and  saw 
The  characters  take  form,  some  other  wight, 
Long  after  he  was  dead  and  in  the  grave, 
Should  loiter  there  at  noon,  and  read  his  name. 

In  purple  some,  and  some  in  rags,  stood  forth 
For  reputation.     Some  displayed  a  limb 


BOOK   III.  51 

Well-fashioned ;  some,  of  lowlier  mind,  a  cane 

Of  curious  workmanship  and  marvellous  twist. 

In  strength  some  sought  it,  and  in  beauty  more. 

Long,  long,  the  fair  one  laboured  at  the  glass, 

And,  being  tired,  called  in  auxiliar  skill, 

To  have  her  sails,  before  she  went  abroad, 

Full  spread  and  nicely  set,  to  catch  the  gale 

Of  praise  ;  and  much  she  caught,  and  much  deserved, 

When  outward  loveliness  was  index  fair 

Of  purity  within :  but  ofl,  alas  ! 

The  bloom  was  on  the  skin  alone  ;  and  when 

She  saw,  sad  sight !  the  roses  on  her  cheek 

Wither,  and  heard  the  voice  of  Fame  retire 

And  die  away,  she  heaved  most  piteous  sighs. 

And  wept  most  lamentable  tears  ;  and  whiles. 

In  wild  delirium,  made  rash  attempt, 

Unholy  mimicry  of  Nature's  work  ! 

To  re-create,  with  frail  and  mortal  things, 

Her  withered  face.     Attempt  how  fond  and  vain  ! 

Her  frame  itself  soon  mouldered  down  to  dust  j 

And,  in  the  land  of  deep  forgetfulness. 

Her  beauty  and  her  name  were  laid  beside 

Eternal  silence  and  the  loathsome  worm ; 

Into  whose  darkness  flattery  ventured  not ; 

Where  none  had  ears  to  hear  the  voice  of  Fame. 

Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried , 
And  awful  ofl  the  wickedness  they  wrought. 
To  be  observed,  some  scrambled  up  to  thrones. 
And  sat  in  vestures  dripping  wet  with  gore. 
The  warrior  dipped  his  sword  in  blood,  and  wrote 
His  name  on  lands  and  cities  desolate. 
The  rich  bought  fields,  and  houses  built,  and  raised 
The  monumental  piles  up  to  the  clouds, 
And  called  them  by  their  names  :  and,  strange  to  tell ! 
Rather  than  be  unknown,  and  pass  away 
Obscurely  to  the  grave,  some,  small  of  soul. 
That  else  had  perished  unobserved,  acquired 


52  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Considerable  renown  by  oaths  profane  j 
By  jesting  boldly  with  all  sacred  things ; 
And  uttering  fearlessly  whate'er  occurred  ; 
Wild,  blasphemous,  perditionable  thoughts, 
That  Satan  in  them  moved  ;  by  wiser  men 
Suppressed,  and  quickly  banished  from  the  mind. 

Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried. 
But  all  in  vain.     Who  grasped  at  earthly  fame, 
Orasped   wind  3    nay   worse,   a   serpent  grasped,   that 

through 
His  hand  slid  smoothly,  and  was  gone  ;  but  left 
A  sting  behind  which  wrought  him  endless  pain. 
For  oft  her  voice  was  old  Abaddon's  lure, 
By  which  he  charmed  the  foohsh  soul  to  death. 

So  happiness  was  sought  in  pleasure,  gold, 
Renown,  by  many  sought.     But  should  I  sing 
Of  all  the  trifling  race,  my  time,  thy  faith 
Would  fail,  of  things  erectly  organized, 
And  having  rational,  articulate  voice. 
And  claiming  outward  brotherhood  with  man, 
Of  him  that  laboured  sorely,  in  his  sweat 
Smoking  afar,  then  hurried  to  the  wine, 
Deliberately  resolving  to  be  mad  ; 
Of  him  who  taught  the  ravenous  bird  to  fly 
This  way  or  that,  thereby  supremely  blest ; 
Or  rode  in  fury  with  the  howling  pack, 
Afiironting  much  the  noble  animal, 
He  spurred  into  such  company  ;  of  him 
Who  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
Descended  deeply,  to  bring  up  the  wreck 
Of  some  old  earthen  ware,  which  having  stowed, 
With  every  proper  care,  he  home  returned 
O'er  many  a  sea  and  many  a  league  of  land, 
Triumphantly  to  show  the  marvellous  prize ; 
And  him  that  vexed  his  brain,  and  theories  built 
Of  gossamer  upon  the  brittle  winds, 


BOOK  III.  53 

'  Perplexed  exceedingly  why  shells  were  found 
Upon  the  mountain  tops,  but  wondering  not 
Why  shells  were  found  at  all,  more  wondrous  still ! 
Of  him  who  strange  enjoyment  took  in  tales 
Of  fairy  folk,  and  sleepless  ghosts,  and  sounds 
Unearthly,  whispering  in  the  ear  of  night 
Disastrous  things ;  and  him  who  still  foretold 
Calamity  which  never  came,  and  lived 
In  terror  all  his  days  of  comets  rude, 
That  should  unmannerly  and  lawless  drive 
Athwart  the  path  of  earth,  and  burn  mankind; 
As  if  the  appointed  hour  of  doom,  by  God 
Appointed,  ere  its  time  should  come  !  as  if 
Too  small  the  number  of  substantial  ills, 
And  real  fears,  to  vex  the  sons  of  men. 
These,  had  they  not  possessed  immortal  souls, 
And  been  accountable,  might  have  been  passed 
With  laughter,  and  forgot ;  but,  as  it  was, 
And  is,  their  folly  asks  a  serious  tear. 

Keen  was  the  search,  and  various,  and  wide, 
For  happiness.    Take  one  example  more. 
So  strange,  that  common  fools  looked  on  amazed  ; 
And  wise  and  sober  men  together  drew. 
And  trembling  stood ;  and  angels  in  the  heavens 
Grew  pale,  and  talked  of  vengeance  as  at  hand; 
The  sceptic's  route,  the  unbeliever's,  who, 
Despising  reason,  revelation,  God, 
And  kicking  'gainst  the  pricks  of  conscience,  rushed 
Deliriously  upon  the  bossy  shield 
Of  the  Omnipotent ;  and  in  his  heart 
Purposed  to  deify  the  idol  chance  ; 
And  laboured  hard, — oh,  labour  worse  than  naught ! — 
And  toiled  with  dark  and  crooked  reasoning. 
To  make  the  fair  and  lovely  earth,  which  dwelt 
In  sight  of  Heaven,  a  cold  and  fatherless. 
Forsaken  thing,  that  wandered  on,  forlorn, 
Undestined,  uncompassioned,  unupheld ; 


54  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

A  vapour  eddying  in  the  whirl  of  chance, 

And  soon  to  vanish  everlastingly. 
ctC,^    He  travailed  sorely,  and  made  many  a  tack, 
A&viK  ^  j^-g  gg^Qg  q|-|.  shifting,  to  arrive, — dread  thought! — 

Arrive  at  utter  nothingness  ;  and  have 

Being  no  more,  no  feeling,  memory, 

No  lingering  consciousness  that  e'er  he  was. 

Guilt's  midnight  wish  !  last,  most  abhorred  thought ! 

Most  desperate  effort  of  extremest  sin ! 

Others,  pre-occupied,  ne'er  saw  true  Hope : 

He,  seeing,  aimed  to  stab  her  to  the  heart, 

And  with  infernal  chymistry  to  wring 

The  last  sweet  drop  from  sorrow's  cup  of  gall ; 

To  quench  the  only  ray  that  cheered  the  earth. 

And  leave  mankind  in  night  which  had  no  star. 

Others  the  streams  of  Pleasure  troubled ;  he 

Toiled  much  to  dry  her  very  fountain  head. 

Unpardonable  man  !  sold  under  sin  ! 

He  was  the  devil's  pioneer,  who  cut  i,     , 

The  fences  down  of  Virtue,  sapped  her  walls,  '-^^U*— 

And  opened  a  smooth  and  easy  way  to  death. 

Traitor  to  all  existence,  to  all  life  ! 

Soul-suicide  !  determined  foe  of  being  ! 

Intended  murderer  of  God,  Most  High ! 

Strange  road,  most  strange  !  to  seek  for  happiness ! 

Hell's  mad-houses  are  full  of  such,  too  fierce. 

Too  furiously  insane,  and  desperate. 

To  rage  unbound  'mong  evil  spirits  damned. 

Fertile  was  earth  in  many  things,  not  least 
In  fools,  who  mercy  both  and  judgment  scorned, 
Scorned  love,  experience  scorned,  and  onward  rushed 
To  swifl  destruction,  giving  all  reproof. 
And  all  instruction,  to  the  winds  ;  and  much 
Of  both  they  had,  and  much  despised  of  both. 

Wisdom  took  up  her  harp,  and  stood  in  place 
Of  frequent  concourse,  stood  in  evcs^y  gate, 


BOOK  III.  55 

By  every  way,  and  walked  in  every  street ; 
And,  lifting  up  her  voice,  proclaimed  :  "  Be  wise, 
Ye  fools  !  be  of  an  understanding  heart ; 
Forsake  the  wicked,  come  not  near  his  house, 
Pass  by,  make  haste,  depart  and  turn  away. 
Me  follow,  me,  whose  ways  are  pleasantness. 
Whose  paths  are  peace,  wiiose  end  is  perfect  joy." 
I^The  Seasons  came  and  went,  and  went  and  came, 
To  teach  men  gratitude  ;  and  as  they  passed, 
Gave  warning  of  the  lapse  of  Time,  that  else 
Had  stolen  unheeded  by.     The  gentle  Flowers, 
Retired,  and,  stooping  o'er  the  wilderness, 
Talked  of  humility,  and  peace,  and  love. 
The  Dews  came  down  unseen  at  evening-tide. 
And  silently  their  bounties  shed,  to  teach 
Mankind  unostentatious  charity. 
With  arm  in  arm  the  forest  rose  on  high, 
And  lesson  gave  of  brotherly  regard. 
And,  on  the  rugged  mountain-brow  exposed. 
Bearing  the  blast  alone,  the  ancient  oak 
Stood,  lifting  high  his  mighty  arm,  and  still 
To  courage  in  distress  exhorted  loud. 
The  flocks,  the  herds,  the  birds,  the  streams,  the  breeze, 
Attuned  the  heart  to  melody  and  love. 
Mercy  stood  in  the  cloud,  with  eye  that  wept 
Essential  love  ;  and,  from  her  glorious  bow. 
Bending  to  kiss  the  earth  in  token  of  peace, 
With  her  own  lips,  her  gracious  lips,  which  God 
Of  sweetest  accent  made,  she  whispered  still. 
She  wispered  to  Revenge,  Forgive,  forgive. 
The  Sun,  rejoicing  round  the  earth,  announced 
Daily  the  wisdom,  power,  and  love  of  God. 
The  Moon  awoke,  and  from  her  maiden  face, 
Shedding  her  cloudy  locks,  looked  meekly  forth, 
And  with  her  virgin  Stars  walked  in  the  heavens, 
Walked  nightly  there,  conversing  as  she  walked. 
Of  purity,  and  holiness,  and  God. 
In  dreams  and  visions,  sleep  instructed  much. 


56  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Day  uttered  speech  to  day,  and  night  to  night 

Taught  knowledge.    Silence  had  a  tongue ;  the  grave, 

The  darkness,  and  the  lonely  waste,  had  each 

A  tongue,  that  ever  said,  Man  !  think  of  God  ! 

Think  of  thyself !  think  of  eternity  ! 

Fear  God,  the  thunders  said.  Fear  God,  the  waves. 

Fear  God,  the  lightning  of  the  storm  replied. 

Fear  God,  deep  loudly  answered  back  to  deep  : 

And,  in  the  temples  of  the  Holy  One, 

Messiah's  messengers,  the  faithful  few. 

Faithful  'mong  many  false,  the  Bible  opened, 

And  cried,  Repent  ^  repent  ye  sons  of  men  ! 

Believe,  be  saved  ;  and  reasoned  awfully 

Of  temperance,  righteousness,  and  judgment  soon 

To  come,  of  ever-during  life  and  death : 

And  chosen  bards  from  age  to  age  awoke 

The  sacred  lyre,  and  full  on  Folly's  ear. 

Numbers  of  righteous  indignation  poured : 

And  God,  omnipotent,  when  mercy  failed. 

Made  bare  his  holy  arm,  and  with  the  stroke 

Of  vengeance  smote  ;  the  fountains  of  the  deep 

Broke  up,  heaven's  windows  opened,  and  sent  on  men 

A  flood  of  wrath,  sent  plague  and  famine  forth ; 

With  earthquake  rocked  the  world  beneath,  with  storms 

Above  laid  cities  waste,  and  turned  fat  lands 

To  barrenness,  and  with  the  sword  of  war 

In  fury  marched,  and  gave  them  blood  to  drink. 

Angels  remonstrated,  Mercy  beseeched. 

Heaven  smiled  and  frowned,  Hell  groaned.  Time  fled, 

Death  shook 
His  dart,  and  threatened  to  make  repentance  vain, — 
Incredible  assertion  !  men  rushed  on 
Determinedly  to  ruin ;  shut  their  ears. 
Their  eyes,  to  all  advice,  to  all  reproof; 
O'er  mercy  and  o'er  judgment,  downward  rushed 
To  misery;  and, — most  incredible 
Of  all ! — to  misery  rushed  along  the  way 
Of  disappointment  and  remorse,  where  still 


BOOK  III.  57 

At  every  step,  adders,  in  pleasure's  form, 
Stung  mortally  ;  and  Joys, — whose  bloomy  cheeks 
Seemed  glowing  high  with  immortality. 
Whose  bosoms  prophesied  superfluous  bliss, — 
While  in  the  arms  received,  and  locked  in  close 
And  riotous  embrace,  turned  pale,  and  cold, 
And  died,  and  smelled  of  putrefaction  rank ; 
Turned,  in  the  very  moment  of  delight, 
A  loathsome,  heavy  corpse,  that  with  the  clear 
And  hollow  eyes  of  death,  stared  horribly. 

All  tribes,  all  generations  of  the  earth, 
Thus  wantonly  to  ruin  drove  alike. 
We  heard  indeed  of  golden  and  silver  days, 
And  of  primeval  innocence  unstained  : 
A  pagan  tale  !  but  by  baptized  bards. 
Philosophers,  and  statesmen,  who  were  still 
Held  wise  and  cunning  men,  talked  of  so  much, 
That  most  believed  it  so,  and  asked  not  why. 

The  pair,  the  family  first  made,  were  illj 
And  for  their  great  peculiar  sin,  incurred 
The  Curse,  and  left  it  due  to  all  their  race ; 
And  bold  example  gave  of  every  crime, 
Hate,  murder,  unbelief,  reproach,  revenge. 
A  time,  'tis  true,  there  came,  of  which  thou  soon 
Shalt  hear,  the  Sabbath  Day,  the  Jubilee 
Of  earth,  when  righteousness  and  peace  prevailed. 
This  time  except,  who  writes  the  history 
Of  men,  and  writes  it  true,  must  write  them  bad ; 
Who  reads,  must  read  of  violence  and  blood. 
The  man,  who  could  the  story  of  one  day 
Peruse,  the  wrongs,  oppressions,  cruelties, 
Deceits,  and  perjuries,  and  vanities. 
Rewarded  worthlessness,  rejected  worth, 
Assassinations,  robberies,  thefts,  and  wars. 
Disastrous  accidents,  life  thrown  away. 


68  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Divinity  insulted,  Heaven  despised, 
Religion  scorned, — and  not  been  sick  at  night. 
And  sad,  had  gathered  greater  store  of  mirth, 
Than  ever  wise  man  in  the  world  could  find. 

One  cause  of  folly,  one  especial  cause. 
Was  this :  Few  knew  what  wisdom  was,  though  well 
Defined  in  God's  own  words,  and  printed  large, 
On  heaven  and  earth  in  characters  of  light. 
And  sounded  in  the  ear  by  every  wind. 

Wisdom  is  humble,  said  the  voice  of  God. 
'Tis  proud,  the  world  replied.     Wisdom,  said  God, 
Forgives,  forbears,  and  suffers,  not  for  fear 
Of  man,  but  God.     Wisdom  revenges,  said 
The  world,  is  quick  and  deadly  of  resentment, 
Thrusts  at  the  very  shadow  of  affront. 
And  hastes,  by  death,  to  wipe  its  honour  clean. 
Wisdom,  said  God,  loves  enemies,  entreats. 
Solicits,  begs  for  peace.     Wisdom,  replied 
The  world,  hates  enemies,  will  not  ask  peace, 
Conditions  spurns,  and  triumphs  in  their  fall. 
Wisdom  mistrusts  itself,  and  leans  on  Heaven, 
Said  God.     It  trusts  and  leans  upon  itself. 
The  world  replied.     Wisdom  retires,  said  God, 
And  counts  it  bravery  to  bear  reproach. 
And  shame,  and  lowly  poverty,  upright ; 
And  weeps  with  all  who  have  just  cause  to  weep. 
Wisdom,  replied  the  world,  struts  forth  to  gaze. 
Treads  the  broad  stage  of  life  with  clamorous  foot. 
Attracts  all  praises,  counts  it  bravery 
Alone  to  wield  the  sword,  and  rush  on  death ; 
And  never  weeps,  but  for  its  own  disgrace. 
Wisdom,  said  God,  is  highest,  when  it  stoops 
Lowest  before  the  Holy  Throne  ;  throws  down 
Its  crown,  abased ;  forgets  itself,  admires. 
And  breathes  adoring  praise.    There  Wisdom  stoops, 


59 


Indeed,  the  world  replied,  there  stoops,  because 
It  must,  but  stoops  with  dignity ;  and  thinks 
And  meditates  the  while  of  inward  worth. 

Thus  did  Almighty  God,  and  thus  the  world, 
Wisdom  define  :  and  most  the  world  believed, 
And  boldly  called  the  truth  of  God  a  lie. 
Hence,  he  that  to  the  worldly  wisdom  shaped 
His  character,  became  the  favourite 
Of  men,  was  honourable  termed,  a  man 
Of  spirit,  noble,  glorious,  lofly  soul ! 
And  as  he  crossed  the  earth  in  chase  of  dreams, 
Received  prodigious  shouts  of  warm  applause. 
Hence,  who  to  godly  wisdom  framed  his  life, 
Was  counted  mean,  and  spiritless,  and  vile  ; 
And  as  he  walked  obscurely  in  the  path 
Which  led  to  heaven,  fools  hissed  with  serpent  tongue, 
And  poured  contempt  upon  his  holy  head. 
And  poured  contempt  on  all  who  praised  his  name. 

But  false  as  this  account  of  wisdom  was, 
The  world's  I  mean,  it  was  its  best^  the  creed 
Of  sober,  grave,  and  philosophic  men. 
With  much  research  and  cogitation  framed, 
Of  men,  who  with  the  vulgar  scorned  to  sit. 

The  popular  belief  seemed  rather  worse, 
When  heard  replying  to  the  voice  of  truth. 

The  wise  man,  said  the  Bible,  walks  with  God ; 
Surveys,  far  on,  the  endless  line  of  life  ; 
Values  his  soul,  thinks  of  eternity. 
Both  worlds  considers,  and  provides  for  both ; 
With  reason's  eye  his  passions  guards  ;  abstains 
From  evil ;  lives  on  hope,  on  hope,  the  fruit 
Of  faith  ;  looks  upward,  purifies  his  soul. 
Expands  his  wings,  and  mounts  into  the  sky ; 


60  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Passes  the  sun,  and  gains  his  father's  house, 
A.nd  drinks  with  angels  from  the  fount  of  bliss. 

The  multitude  aloud  replied, — replied 
By  practice,  for  they  were  not  bookish  men, 
JVor  apt  to  form  their  principles  in  words, — - 
The  wise  man,  first  of  all,  eradicates. 
As  much  as  possible,  from  out  his  mind. 
All  thought  of  death,  God,  and  eternity; 
Admires  the  world,  and  thinks  of  Time  alone  ; 
Avoids  the  Bible,  all  reproof  avoids ; 
Rocks  Conscience,  if  he  can,  asleep  ;  puts  out 
The  eye  of  Reason,  prisons,  tortures,  binds. 
And  makes  her  thus,  by  violence  and  force, 
Give  wicked  evidence  against  herself; 
Lets  passion  loose,  the  substance  leaves,  pursues 
The  shadow  vehemently,  but  ne'er  o'ertakes  ; 
Puts  by  the  cup  of  holiness  and  joy; 
And  drinks,  carouses  deeply,  in  the  bowl 
Of  death  ;  grovels  in  dust,  pollutes,  destroys, 
His  soul ;  is  miserable  to  acquire 
More  misery;  deceives  to  be  deceived; 
Strives,  labours,  to  the  last,  to  shun  the  truth  ; 
Strives,  labours,  to  the  last,  to  damn  himself; 
Turns  desperate,  shudders,  groans,  blasphemes,  and  dies, 
And  sinks — where  could  he  else  ? — to  endless  wo  ; 
And  drinks  the  wine  of  God's  eternal  wrath. 

The  learned  thus,  and  thus  the  unlearned  world, 
Wisdom  defined.     In  sound  they  disagreed  ; 
In  substance,  in  effect,  in  end,  the  same ; 
"And  equally  to  God  and  truth  opposed. 
Opposed  as  darkness  to  the  light  of  heaven. 
Yet  were  there  some,  that  seemed  well-meaning  men, 
Who  systems  planned,  expressed  in  supple  words. 
Which  praised  the  man  as  wisest,  that  in  one 
United  both  ;  pleased  God,  and  pleased  the  world ; 


BOOK  III.  61 

And  with  the  saint,  and  with  the  sinner,  had, 
Changing  liis  garb,  unseen,  a  good  report. 
And  many  thought  their  definition  best ; 
And  in  their  wisdom  grew  exceeding  wise. 

Union  abhorred  !  dissimulation  vain  ! 
Could  Holiness  embrace  the  harlot  Sin  ? 
Could  life  wed  death  ?      Could   God   with  Mammon 

dwell  ? 
Oh,  foolish  men  !  oh,  men  for  ever  lost ! 
In  spite  of  mercy  lost,  in  spite  of  wrath  ! 
In  spite  of  Disappointment  and  Remorse, 
Which  made  the  way  to  ruin,  ruinous  ! 

Hear  what  they  were  :  The  progeny  of  Sin, 
Alike,  and  oft  combined;  but  differing  much 
In  mode  of  giving  pain.     As  felt  the  gross, 
Material  part,  when  in  the  furnace  cast. 
So  felt  the  souL,  the  victim  of  Remorse. 
It  was  a  fire  which  on  the  verge  of  God's 
Commandments  burned,  and  on  the  vitals  fed 
Of  all  who  passed.    Who  passed,  there  met  Remorse  , 
A  violent  fever  seized  his  soul ;  the  heavens 
Above,  the  earth  beneath,  seemed  glowing  brass, 
Heated  seven  times ;  he  heard  dread  voices  speak, 
And  mutter  horrid  prophecies  of  pain, 
Severer  and  severer  yet  to  come  ; 
And  as  he  writhed  and  quivered,  scorched  within, 
The  Fury  round  his  torrid  temples  flapped 
Her  fiery  wings,  and  breathed  upon  his  lips 
And  parched  tongue  the  withered  blasts  of  hell. 
It  v.^as  the  suffering  begun,  thou  sawst 
In  symbol  of  the  Worm  that  never  dies. 

The  other,  Disappointment,  rather  seemed 
Negation  of  delight.     It  was  a  thing 
Sluggish  and  torpid,  tending  towards  death. 
Its  breath  was  cold,  and  made  the  sportive  blood, 
6 


62  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Stagnant,  and  dull,  and  heavy,  round  the  wheels 

Of  life.    The  roots  of  that  whereon  it  blew, 

Decayed,  and  with  the  genial  soil  no  more 

Held  sympathy  ;  the  leaves,  the  branches  drooped, 

And  mouldered  slowly  down  to  formless  dust ; 

Not  tossed  and  driven  by  violence  of  winds, 

But  withering  where  they  sprung,  and  rotting  there 

Long  disappointed,  disappointed  still. 

The  hopeless  man,  hopeless  in  his  main  wish, 

As  if  returning  back  to  nothing,  felt; 

In  strange  vacuity  of  being  hung. 

And  rolled  and  rolled  his  eye  on  emptiness, 

That  seemed  to  grow  more  empty  every  hour. 

One  of  this  mood  I  do  remember  well. 
We  name  him  not, — what  now  are  earthly  names  ?— 
In  humble  dwelling  born,  retired,  remote  ; 
In  rural  quietude,  'mong  hills,  and  streams, 
And  melancholy  deserts,  where  the  Sun 
Saw,  as  he  passed,  a  shepherd  only,  here 
And  there,  watching  his  little  flock,  or  heard 
The  ploughman  talking  to  his  steers  ',  his  hopes, 
His  morning  hopes,  awoke  before  him,  smiling, 
Among  the  dews  and  holy  mountain  airs  ; 
And  fancy  coloured  them  with  every  hue 
Of  heavenly  loveliness.     But  soon  his  dreams 
Of  childhood  fled  away,  those  rainbow  dreams. 
So  innocent  and  fair,  that  withered  Age, 
Even  at  the  grave,  cleared  up  his  dusty  eye. 
And,  passing  all  between,  looked  fondly  back 
To  see  them  once  again,  ere  he  departed : 
These  fled  away,  and  anxious  thought,  that  wished 
To  go,  yet  whither  knew  not  well  to  go. 
Possessed  his  soul,  and  held  it  still  awhile. 
He  listened,  and  heard  from  far  the  voice  of  fame. 
Heard  and  was  charmed  ;  and  deep  and  sudden  vow 
Of  resolution,  made  to  be  renowned  ; 
And  deeper  vowed  again  to  keep  his  vow. 


BOOK  III.  63 

His  parents  saw,  his  parents,  whom  God  made 

Of  kindest  heart,  saw,  and  indulged  his  hope. 

The  ancient  page  he  turned,  read  much,  thought  much, 

And  with  old  bards  of  honourable  name 

Measured  his  soul  severely  ;  and  looked  up 

To  fame,  ambitious  of  no  second  place. 

Hope  grew  from  inward  faith,  and  promised  fair. 

And  out  before  him  opened  many  a  path 

Ascending,  where  the  laurel  highest  waved 

Her  branch  of  endless  green.     He  stood  admiring, 

But  stood,  admired,  not  long.     The  harp  he  seized. 

The  harp  he  loved,  loved  better  than  his  life. 

The  harp  which  uttered  deepest  notes,  and  held 

The  ear  of  thought  a  captive  to  its  song. 

He  searched  and  meditated  much,  and  whiles, 

With  rapturous  hand,  in  secret,  touched  the  lyre. 

Aiming  at  glorious  strains ;  and  searched  again 

For  theme  deserving  of  immortal  verse  ; 

Chose  now,  and  now  refused,  unsatisfied  ; 

Pleased,  then  displeased,  and  hesitating  still. 

Thus  stood  his  mind,  when  round  him  came  a  cloud, 
Slowly  and  heavily  it  came,  a  cloud 
Of  ills,  we  mention  not.     Enough  to  say, 
'Twas  cold,  and  dead,  impenetrable  gloom. 
He  saw  its  dark  approach,  and  saw  his  hopes, 
One  after  one,  put  out,  as  nearer  still 
It  drew  his  soul ;  but  fainted  not  at  first. 
Fainted  not  soon.     He  knew  the  lot  of  man 
Was  trouble,  and  prepared  to  bear  the  worst ; 
Endure  whate'er  should  come,  without  a  sigh 
Endure,  and  drink,  even  to  the  very  dregs, 
The  bitterest  cup  that  Time  could  measure  out ; 
And,  having  done,  look  up,  and  ask  for  more. 

He  called  philosophy,  and  with  his  heart 
Reasoned.    He  called  religion  too,  but  called 
Reluctantly,  and  therefore  was  not  heard. 


64  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Ashamed  to  be  o'ermatched  by  earthly  woes, 

He  sought,  and  sought,  with  eye  that  dimmed  apace 

To  find  some  avenue  to  light,  some  place 

On  which  to  rest  a  hope  ;  but  sought  in  vain. 

Darker  and  darker  still  the  darkness  grew. 

At  length  he  sunk,  and  Disappointment  stood 

His  only  comforter,  and  mournfully 

Told  all  was  passed.     His  interest  in  life, 

In  being,  ceased  :  and  now  he  seemed  to  feel, 

And  shuddered  as  he  felt,  his  powers  of  mind 

Decaying  in  the  spring-time  of  his  day. 

The  vigorous,  weak  became,  the  clear,  obscure. 

Memory  gave  up  her  charge,  Decision  reeled. 

And  from  her  flight.  Fancy  returned,  returned 

Because  she  found  no  nourishment  abroad. 

The  blue  heavens  withered,  and  the  moon,  and  sun, 

And  all  the  stars,  and  the  green  earth,  and  morn 

And  evening,  withered  ;  and  the  eyes,  and  smiles, 

And  faces,  of  all  men  and  women,  withered ; 

Withered  to  him  j  and  all  the  universe, 

Like  something  which  had  been,  appeared ;  but  now 

Was  dead  and  mouldering  fast  away.     He  tried 

No  more  to  hope,  wished  to  forget  his  vow, 

Wished  to  forget  his  harp  ;  then  ceased  to  wish. 

That  was  his  last.    Enjoyment  now  was  done. 

He  had  no  hope,  no  wish,  and  scarce  a  fear. 

Of  being  sensible,  and  sensible 

Of  loss,  he  as  some  atom  seemed,  which  God 

Had  made  superfluously,  and  needed  not 

To  build  creation  with ;  but  back  again 

To  nothing  threw,  and  left  it  in  the  void, 

With  everlasting  sense  that  once  it  was. 

Oh  !  who  can  tell  what  days,  what  nights,  he  spent, 
Of  tideless,  waveless,  sailless,  shoreless  wo  ! 
And  who  can  tell  how  many,  glorious  once, 
To  others  and  themselves  of  promise  full. 
Conducted  to  this  pass  of  human  thought, 


BOOK  III.  65 

This  wilderness  of  intellectual  death, 

Wasted  and  pined,  and  vanished  from  the  earth, 

Leaving  no  vestige  of  memorial  there  ! 

It  was  not  so  with  him.    When  thus  he  lay, 
Forlorn  of  heart,  withered  and  desolate. 
As  leaf  of  Autumn,  which  the  wolfish  winds, 
Selecting  from  its  falling  sisters,  chase. 
Far  from  its  native  grove,  to  lifeless  wastes, 
And  leave  it  there  alone,  to  be  forgotten 
Eternally,  God  passed  in  mercy  by, — 
His  praise  be  ever  new  ! — and  on  him  breathed, 
And  bade  lam  live,  and  put  into  his  hands 
A  holy  harp,  into  his  lips  a  song, 
That  rolled  its  numbers  down  the  tide  of  Time . 
Ambitious  now  but  little,  to  be  praised 
Of  men  alone  ;  ambitious  most,  to  be 
Approved  of  God,  the  Judge  of  all ;  and  have 
His  name  recorded  in  the  book  of  hfe. 

Such  things  were  Disappointment  and  Remorse. 
And  oft  united  both,  as  friends  severe. 
To  teach  men  wisdom  ;  but  the  fool,  untaught. 
Was  foolish  still.    His  ear  he  stopped,  his  eyes 
He  shut,  and  blindly,  deafly  obstinate. 
Forced  desperately  his  way  from  wo  to  wo. 

One  place,  one  only  place,  there  was  on  earth, 
Where  no  man  e'er  was  fool,  however  mad. 
"Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot  die." 
Ah !  'twas  a  truth  most  true ;  and  sung  in  Time, 
And  to  the  sons  of  men,  by  one  well  known 
On  earth  for  lofty  verse  and  lofty  sense. 
Much  hast  thou  seen,  fair  youth,  much  heard ;  but  thou 
Hast  never  seen  a  death-bed,  never  heard 
A  dying  groan.     Men  saw  it  often.     'Twas  sad, 
To  all  most  sorrowful  and  sad ;  to  guilt, 
'Twas  anguisji,  terror,  darknesS;  without  bow. 
6*^ 


66  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

But,  oh !  it  had  a  most  convincing  tongue, 

A  potent  oratory,  that  secured 

Most  mute  attention  ;   and  it  spoke  the  truth 

So  boldly,  plainly,  perfectly  distinct, 

That  none  the  meaning  could  mistake,  or  doubt ; 

And  had  withal  a  disenchanting  power, 

A  most  omnipotent  and  wondrous  power, 

Which  in  a  moment  broke,  for  ever  broke. 

And  utterly  dissolved,  the  charms,  and  spells, 

And  cunning  sorceries  of  earth  and  hell. 

And  thus  it  spoke  to  him  who  ghastly  lay, 

And  struggled  for  another  breath  :    Earth's  cup 

Is  poisoned ;  her  renown,  most  infamous  j 

Her  gold,  seem  as  it  may,  is  really  dust ; 

Her  titles,  slanderous  names ;  her  praise,  reproach , 

Her  strength,  an  idiot's  boast ;  her  wisdom,  blind ; 

Her  gain,  eternal  loss ;  her  hope,  a  dream  : 

Her  love,  her  friendship,  enmity  with  God; 

Her  promises,  a  lie  ;  her  smile,  a  harlot's  ; 

Her  beauty,  paint,  and  rotten  within ;  her  pleasures, 

Deadly  assassins  masked  ;  her  laughter,  grief; 

Her  breasts,  the  sting  of  Death ;  her  total  sum. 

Her  all,  most  utter  vanity ;  and  all 

Her  lovers  mad,  insane  most  grievously, 

And  most  insane  because  they  know  it  not. 

Thus  did  the  mighty  reasoner.  Death,  declare. 
And  volumes  more ;  and  in  one  word  confirmed 
The  Bible  whole.  Eternity  is  all. 
But  few  spectators,  few  believed,  of  those 
Who  staid  behind.    The  wisest,  best  of  men. 
Believed  not  to  the  letter  full ;  but  turned. 
And  on  the  world  looked  forth,  as  if  they  thought 
The  well-trimmed  hypocrite  had  something  fltill 
Of  inward  worth.     The  dying  man  alone. 
Gave  faithful  audience,  and  the  words  of  Death, 
To  the  last  jot,  believed,  believed  and  felt ; 
But  oft,  alas  !  believed  and  felt  too  late. 


67 


And  had  Earth,  then,  no  joys,  no  native  sweets, 
No  happiness,  that  one,  who  spoke  the  truth. 
Might  call  her  own  ?     She  had  ;  true,  native  sweets, 
Indigenous  delights,  which  up  the  tree 
Of  holiness,  embracing  as  they  grew. 
Ascended,  and  bore  fruit  of  heavenly  taste  ; 
In  pleasant  memory  held,  and  talked  of  oft. 
By  yonder  Saints,  who  walk  the  golden  streets 
Of  New  Jerusalem,  and  compass  round 
The  Throne,  with  nearest  vision  blessed.     Of  these, 
Hereafter,  thou  shalt  hear,  delighted  hear  j — 
One  page  of  beauty  in  the  life  of  man. 


COURSE  OF  TIME, 


BOOK  IV. 


The  world  had  much  of  strange  and  wonderful, 
In  passion  much,  in  action,  reason,  will, 
Aifd  much  in  Providence,  which  still  retired 
From  human  eye,  and  led  Philosophy, 
That  ill  her  ignorance  liked  to  own,  through  dark 
And  dangerous  paths  of  speculation  wild. 
Some  striking  features,  as  we  pass,  we  mark, 
In  order  such  as  memory  suggests. 

One  passion  prominent  appears,  the  lust 
Of  power,  which  oft-times  took  the  fairer  name 
Of  liberty,  and  hung  the  popular  flag 
Of  freedom  out.     Many,  indeed,  its  names. 
When  on  the  throne  it  sat,  and  round  the  neck 
Of  millions  riveted  its  iron  chain. 
And  on  the  shoulders  of  the  people  laid 
Burdens  unmerciful,  it  title  took 
Of  tyranny,  oppression,  despotism  ; 
And  every  tongue  was  weary  cursing  it. 
When  in  the  multitude  it  gathered  strength, 
And,  like  an  ocean  bursting  from  its  bounds, 
Long  beat  in  vain,  went  forth  resistlessly. 
It  bore  the  stamp  and  designation,  then. 
Of  popular  fury,  anarchy,  rebellion; 


70  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

And  honest  men  bewailed  all  order  void ; 

All  laws  annulled ;  all  property  destroyed ; 

The  venerable,  murdered  in  the  streets  ;  / 

The  wise,  despised }  streams,  red  with  human  blood , 

Harvests,  beneath  the  frantic  foot  trod  down  j 

Lands,  desolate  ;  and  famine  at  the  door. 

These  are  a  part ;  but  other  names  it  had, 
Innumerous  as  the  shapes  and  robes  it  wore.  ^ 

But  under  every  name,  in  nature  still 
Invariably  the  same,  and  always  bad. 
We  own,  indeed,  that  oft  against  itself 
It  fought,  and  sceptre  both  and  people  gave 
An  equal  aid ;  as  long  exemplified 
In  Albion's  isle,  Albion,  queen  of  the  seas  ; 
And  in  the  struggle,  something  like  a  kind 
Of  civil  liberty  grew  up,  the  best 
Of  mere  terrestrial  root  j  but,  sickly,  too. 
And  living  only,  strange  to  tell  !  in  strife 
Of  factions  equally  contending;  dead. 
That  very  moment  dead,  that  one  prevailed. 

Conflicting  cruelly  against  itself. 
By  its  own  hand  it  fell ;  part  slaying  part. 
And  men  who  noticed  not  the  suicide. 
Stood  wondering  much,  why  earth  from  age  to  age, 
Was  still  enslaved;  and  erring  causes  gave. 

This  was  earth's  liberty,  its  nature  this, 
However  named,  in  whomsoever  found, — 
And  found  it  was  in  all  of  woman  born, — 
Each  man  to  make  all  subject  to  his  will ; 
To  make  them  do,  undo,  eat,  drink,  stand,  move, 
Talk,  think,  and  feel,  exactly  as  he  chose. 
Hence  the  eternal  strife  of  brotherhoods. 
Of  individuals,  families,  commonwealths. 
The  root  from  which  it  grew  was  pride  ;  bad  root, 
And  bad  the  fruit  it  bore.    Then  wonder  not, 


BOOK  IV.  71 

That  long  the  nations  from  it  richly  reaped 

Oppression,  slavery,  tyranny,  and  war  ; 

Confusion,  desolation,  trouble,  shame. 

And,  marvellous  though  it  seem,  this  monster,  when 

It  took  the  name  of  slavery,  as  oft 

It  did,  had  advocates  to  plead  its  cause ; 

Beings  that  walked  erect,  and  spoke  like  men ; 

Of  Christian  parentage  descended,  too, 

And  dipped  in  the  baptismal  font,  as  sign 

Of  dedication  to  the  Prince  who  bowed 

To  death,  to  set  the  sin-bound  prisoner  free. 

Unchristian  thought !  on  what  pretence  eoe'er 
Of  right,  inherited,  or  else  acquired  ; 
Of  loss,  or  profit,  or  what  plea  you  name, 
To  buy  and  sell,  to  barter,  whip,  and  hold 
In  chains,  a  being  of  celestial  make ; 
Of  kindred  form,  of  kindred  faculties, 
Of  kindred  feelings,  passions,  thoughts,  desires; 
Born  free,  and  heir  of  an  immortal  hope ; 
Thought  villanous,  absurd,  detestable  • 
Unworthy  to  be  harboured  in  a  fiend  ! 
And  only  overreached  in  wickedness 
By  that,  birth,  too,  of  earthly  liberty, 
Which  aimed  to  make  a  reasonable  man 
By  legislation  think,  and  by  the  sword 
Believe.    This  was  that  liberty  renowned, 
Those  equal  rights  of  Greece  and  Rome,  where  men, 
All,  but  a  few,  were  bought,  and  sold,  and  scourged, 
And  killed,  as  interest  or  caprice  enjoined  ; 
In  after  times  talked  of,  written  of,  so  much, 
That  most,  by  sound  and  custom  led  away. 
Believed  the  essence  answered  to  the  name. 
Historians  on  this  theme  were  long  and  warm. 
Statesmen,  drunk  with  the  fumes  of  vain  debate, 
In  lofty  swelling  phrase,  called  it  perfection. 
Philosophers  its  rise,  advance,  and  fall. 
Traced  careftilly  :  and  poets  kindled  still, 


72  THE    COURSE    OP    TIME. 

As  memory  brought  it  up  ;  their  lips  were  touched 
With  fire,  and  uttered  words  that  men  adored. 
Even  he,  true  bard  of  Zion,  holy  man  ! 
To  whom  the  Bible  taught  this  precious  verse, 
"  He  is  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free," 
By  fashion,  though  by  fashion  little  swayed, 
Scarce  kept  his  harp  from  pagan  freedom's  praise. 

The  captive  prophet,  whom  Jehovah  gave 
The  future  years,  described  it  best,  when  he 
Beheld  it  rise  in  vision  of  the  night : 
A  dreadful  beast,  and  terrible,  and  strong 
Exceedingly,  with  mighty  iron  teeth ; 
And,  lo,  it  brake  in  pieces,  and  devoured, 
And  stamped  the  residue  beneath  its  feet ! 

True  liberty  was  Christian,  sanctified, 
Baptized,  and  found  in  Christian  hearts  alone  ; 
First-born  of  Virtue,  daughter  of  the  skies, 
Nursling  of  truth  divine,  sister  of  all 
The  graces,  meekness,  holiness,  and  love  ; 
Giving  to  God,  and  man,  and  all  below. 
That  s3anptom  showed  of  sensible  existence, 
Their  due,  unasked  ;  fear  to  whom  fear  was  due  ; 
To  all,  respect,  benevolence,  and  love  : 
Companion  of  religion,  where  she  came. 
There  freedom  came  ;  where  dwelt,  there  freedom  dwelt , 
Ruled  where  she  ruled,  expired  where  she  expired. 

"  He  was  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  made  free," 
Who,  first  of  all,  the  bands  of  Satan  broke  ; 
Who  broke  the  bands  of  sin  ',  and  for  his  soul, 
In  spite  of  fools,  consulted  seriously; 
In  spite  of  fashion,  persevered  in  good ; 
In  spite  of  wealth  or  poverty,  upright ; 
Who  did  as  reason,  not  as  fancy,  bade  ; 
Who  heard  temptation  sing,  and  yet  turned  not 
Aside  ;  saw  Sin  bedeck  her  flowery  bed, 


BOOK  IV.  ^        73 

And  yet  would  not  go  up  ;  felt  at  his  heart 

The  sword  unsheathed,  yet  would  not  sel  the  truth ; 

Who,  having  power,  had  not  the  will  to  hurt  j 

Who  blushed  alike  to  be,  or  have  a  slave  ; 

Who  blushed  at  naught  but  sin,  feared  naught  but  God } 

Who,  finally,  in  strong  integrity 

Of  soul,  'midst  want,  or  riches,  or  disgrace, 

Uplifted^  calmly  sat,  and  heard  the  waves 

Of  stormy  folly  breaking  at  his  feet, 

Now  shrill  with  praise,  now  hoarse  with  foul  reproach, 

And  both  despised  sincerely  ;  seeking  this 

Alone,  The  approbation  of  his  God, 

Which  still  with  conscience  witnessed  to  his  peace. 

This,  this  is  freedom,  such  as  angels  use, 
And  kindred  to  the  liberty  of  God. 
First-born  of  Virtue,  daughter  of  the  skies  ! 
The  man,  the  state,  in  v/hom  she  ruled,  was  free ; 
All  else  were  slaves  of  Satan,  Sin,  and  Death. 

Already  thou  hast  something  heard  of  good 
And  ill,  of  vice  and  virtue,  perfect  each  ; 
Of  those  redeemed,  or  else  abandoned  quite  j 
And  more  shalt  hear,  when,  at  the  judgment-day, 
The  characters  of  mankind  we  review. 
Seems  aught  which  thou  hast  heard  astonishing  .'' 
A  greater  wonder  now  thy  audience  asks ; 
Phenomena  in  all  the  universe,* 
Of  moral  being  most  anomalous. 
Inexplicable  most,  and  wonderful. 
I'll  introduce  thee  to  a  single  heart, 
A  human  heart.    We  enter  not  the  worst, 
But  one  by  God's  renewing  Spirit  touched, 
A  Christian  heart,  awaked  from  sleep  of  sin. 
What  seest  thou  here  ?   what  markst .?     Observe  )t  well. 
Will,  passion,  reason,  hopes,  fears,  joy,  distress, 
Peace,  turbulence,  simplicity,  deceit, 
Good,  ill,  corruption,  immortality  , 
7 


74  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

A  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  yet 

Oft  lodging  fiends  ;  the  dwelling-place  of  all 

The  heavenly  virtues,  charity  and  truth, 

Humility,  and  holiness,  and  love ; 

And  yet  the  common  haunt  of  anger,  pride, 

Hatred,  revenge,  and  passions  foul  with  lust ; 

Allied  to  heaven,  yet  parleying  oft  with  hell ; 

A  soldier  listed  in  Messiah's  band, 

Yet  giving  quarter  to  Abaddon's  troops ; 

With  seraphs  drinking  from  the  well  of  life, 

And  yet  carousing  in  the  cup  of  death ; 

An  heir  of  heaven,  and  walking  thitherward. 

Yet  casting  back  a  covetous  eye  on  earth  ; 

Emblem  of  strength,  and  weakness  ;  loving  now 

And  now  abhorring  sin  ;  indulging  now. 

And  now  repenting  sore  ;  rejoicing  now. 

With  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory ; 

Now  weeping  bitterly,  and  clothed  in  dust ; 

A  man  willing  to  do,  and  doing  not; 

Doing,  and  willing  not ;  embracing  what 

He  hates,  what  most  he  loves  abandoning ; 

Half  saint,  and  sinner  half;  halflife^  half  death; 

Commixture  strange  of  heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell . 

What  seest  thou  here  ?  what  markst  ?     A  battle-fie^i. 
Two  banners  spread,  two  dreadful  fronts  of  wjlt 
In  shock  of  opposition  fierce,  engaged. 
God,  angels,  saw  whole  empires  rise  in  arms. 
Saw  kings  exalted,  heard  them  tumble  down. 
And  others  raised, — and  heeded  not ;  but  here 
God,  angels,  looked  ;  God,  angels,  fought ;  and  Hell, 
With  all  his  legions,  fought :  here,  error  fought 
With  truth,  with  darkness  light,  and  life  with  death ; 
And  here,  not  kingdoms,  reputations,  worlds, 
Were  won  ;  the  strife  was  for  eternity. 
The  victory  was  never-ending  bliss. 
The  badge,  a  chaplet  from  the  tree  of  life. 


BOOK  IV. 

While  thus,  within,  contending  armies  strove, 
Without,  the  Christian  had  his  troubles  too. 
For,  as  by  God's  unalterable  laws. 
And  ceremonial  of  the  Heaven  of  Heavens, 
Virtue  takes  place  of  all,  and  worthiest  deeds 
Sit  highest  at  the  feast  of  bliss  ;  on  earth, 
The  opposite  was  fashion's  rule  polite. 
Virtue  the  lowest  place  at  table  took. 
Or  served,  or  was  shut  out ;  the  Christian  still 
Was  mocked,  derided,  persecuted,  slain  ; 
And  Slander,  worse  than  mockery,  or  sword. 
Or  death,  stood  nightly  by  her  horrid  forge. 
And  fabricated  lies  to  stain  his  name. 
And  wound  his  peace  ;  but  still  he  had  a  source 
Of  happiness,  that  men  could  neither  give 
Nor  take  away.     The  avenues  that  led 
To  immortality  before  him  lay. 
He  saw,  with  faith's  far  reaching  eye,  the  fount 
Of  life,  his  Father's  house,  his  Saviour  God, 
And  borrowed  thence  to  help  his  present  want. 

Encountered  thus  with  enemies,  without. 
Within,  like  bark  that  meets  opposing  winds 
And  floods,  this  way,  now  that,  she  steers  athwart, 
Tossed  by  the  wave,  and  driven  by  the  storm  ; 
But  still  the  pilot,  ancient  at  the  helm. 
The  harbour  keeps  in  eye  ;  and  after  much 
Of  danger  passed,  and  many  a  prayer  rude, 
He  runs  her  safely  in  :  so  was  the  man 
Of  God  beset,  so  tossed  by  adverse  winds  ; 
And  so  his  eye  upon  the  land  of  life 
He  kept.     Virtue  grew  daily  stronger,  sin 
Decayed  ;  his  enemies,  repulsed,  retired ; 
Till,  at  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man 
In  Christ  arrived,  and  with  the  Spirit  filled, 
He  gained  the  harbour  of  eternal  rest. 


75 


76  THE  COURSE    OF  TIME.  - 

But  think  not  virtue,  else  than  dwells  in  God 
Essentially,  was  perfect,  without  spot. 
Examine  yonder  suns.    At  distance  seen, 
How  bright  they  burn !  how  gloriously  they  shine, 
Mantling  the  worlds  around  in  beamy  light ! 
But  nearer  viewed,  we  through  their  lustre  see 
Some  dark  behind  ;  so  virtue  was  on  earth, 
So  is  in  heaven,  and  so  shall  always  be. 
Though  good  it  seem,  immaculate,  and  fair 
Exceedingly,  to  saint  or  angel's  gaze. 
The  uncreated  Eye,  that  searches  all. 
Sees  it  imperfect ;  sees,  but  blames  not ;  sees. 
Well  pleased,  and  best  with  those  who  deepest  dive 
Into  themselves,  and  know  themselves  the  most ; 
Taught  thence  in  humbler  reverence  to  bow 
Before  the  Holy  One  ;  and  oftener  view 
His  excellence,  that  in  them  still  may  rise. 
And  grow  his  likeness,  growing  evermore. 

Nor  think  that  any,  born  of  Adam's  race, 
In  his  own  proper  virtue,  entered  heaven. 
Once  fallen  from  God  and  perfect  holiness, 
No  being,  unassisted,  e'er  could  rise. 
Or  sanctify  the  sin-polluted  soul. 
Ofl  was  the  trial  made,  but  vainly  made. 
So  ofl  as  men,  in  earth's  best  livery  clad. 
However  fair,  approached  the  gates  of  heaven, 
And  stood  presented  to  the  eye  of  God, 
Their  impious  pride  so  oft  his  soul  abhorred. 
Vain  hope  !  in  patch-work  of  terrestrial  grain. 
To  be  received  into  the  courts  above  ! 
As  vain  as  towards  yonder  suns  to  soar. 
On  wing  of  waxen  plumage,  melting  soon. 

Look  round,  and  see  those  numbers  infinite, 
That  stand  before  the  Throne,  and  in  their  hands 
Palms  waving  high,  as  token  of  victory 


BOOK  IV.  T7 

For  battles  won.    These  are  the  sons  of  men 
Redeemed,  the  ransomed  of  the  Lamb  of  God 
All  these,  and  millions  more  of  kindred  blood, 
Who  now  are  out  on  messages  of  love. 
All  these,  their  virtue,  beauty,  excellence, 
And  joy,  are  purchase  of  redeeming  blood  ; 
Their  glory,  bounty  of  redeeming  love. 

O  Love  divine !     Harp,  lifl  thy  voice  on  high  ! 
Shout,  angels  !  shout  aloud,  ye  sons  of  men ! 
And  burn,  my  heart,  with  the  eternal  flame  ! 
My  lyre,  be  eloquent  with  endless  praise  ! 
O  Love  divine  !  immeasurable  Love  ! 
Stooping  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  hell, 
Without  beginning,  endless,  boundless  Love ! 
Above  all  asking,  giving  far,  to  those 
Who  naught  deserved,  who  naught  deserved  but  death ! 
Saving  the  vilest !  saving  me  !  O  Love 
Divine  !  O  Saviour  God  !  O  Lamb,  once  slain ! 
At  thought  of  thee,  thy  love,  thy  flowing  blood, 
All  thoughts  decay ;  all  things  remembered  fade ; 
All  hopes  return  ;  all  actions  done  by  men 
Or  angels,  disappear,  absorbed  and  lost ; 
All  fly,  as  from  the  great  white  Throne  which  he, 
The  prophet,  saw,  in  vision  wrapped,  the  heavens 
And  earth,  and  sun,  and  moon,  and  starry  host, 
Confounded,  fled,  and  found  a  place  no  more. 

One  glance  of  wonder,  as  we  pass,  deserve 
The  books  of  Time.     Productive  was  the  world 
In  many  things,  but  most  in  books.     Like  swarms 
Of  locusts,  wfiich  God  sent  to  vex  a  land 
Kebellious  long,  admonished  long  in  vain, 
Their  numbers  they  poured  annually  on  man, 
From  heads  conceiving  still.     Perpetual  birth  ! 
Thou  wonderst  how  the  world  contained  them  all  ? 
Thy  wonder  stay.     Like  men,  this  was  their  doom  • 
"  That  dust  they  were,  and  should  to  dust  return.' 
7^ 


78  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

And  ofl  their  fathers,  childless  and  bereaved, 

Wept  o'er  their   graves,  when  they  themselves  were 

green. 
And  on  them  fell,  as  fell  on  every  age, 
As  on  their  authors  fell,  oblivious  INight, 
Which  o'er  the  past  lay,  darkling,  heavy,  still, 
Impenetrable,  motionless,  and  sad. 
Having  his  dismal,  leaden  plumage  stirred 
By  no  remembrancer,  to  show  the  men 
Who  after  came  what  was  concealed  beneath. 

The  stox-y-telling  tribe,  alone,  outran 
AH  calculation  far,  and  left  behind,  • 

Lagging,  the  swiftest  numbers.     Dreadful,  even 
To  fancy,  was  their  never-ceasing  birth ; 
And  room  had  lacked,  had  not  their  life  been  short. 
Excepting  some,  their  definition  take 
Thou  thus,  expressed  in  gentle  phrase,  which  leaves 
Some  truth  behind  :  A  Novel  was  a  book 
Three-volumed,  and  once  read,  and  oft  crammed  full 
Of  poisonous  error,  blackening  every  page, 
And  oftener  still,  of  trifling,  second-hand 
Remark,  and  old,  diseased,  putrid  thought, 
And,  miserable  incident,  at  war 
With  nature,  with  itself  and  truth  at  war ; 
Yet  charming  still  the  greedy  reader  on, 
Till  done,  he  tried  to  recollect  his  thoughts, 
And  nothing  found,  but  dreaming  emptiness. 
These,  like  ephemera,  sprung,  in  a  day. 
From  lean  and  shallow-soiled  brains  of  sand, 
And  in  a  day  expired ;  yet,  while  they  lived, 
Tremendous  oft-times  was  the  popular  roar  ; 
And  cries  of — Live  for  ever  !  struck  the  skies. 

One  kind  alone  remained,  seen  through  the  gloom 
,  And  sullen  shadow  of  the  past :  as  lights 
At  intervals  they  shone,  and  brought  the  eye, 
That  backward  travelled,  upward,  till  arrived 


BOOK  IV.  79 

At  him,  who,  on  the  hills  of  Midian,  sang 

The  patient  man  of  Uz ;  and  from  the  lyre 

Of  angels,  learned  the  early  dawn  of  Time. 

Not  light  and  momentary  labour  these, 

But  discipline  and  self-denial  long. 

And  purpose  stanch,  and  perseverance,  asked, 

And  energy  that  inspiration  seemed. 

Composed  of  many  thoughts,  possessing  each  - 

Innate  and  underived  vitality  ; 

Which,  having  fitly  shaped,  and  well  arranged 

In  brotherly  accord,  they  builded  up  ; 

A  stately  superstructure,  that,  nor  wind, 

Nor  wave,  nor  shock  of  falling  years,  could  move  ; 

Majestic  and  indissolubly  firm  ; 

As  ranks  of  veteran  warriors  in  the  field, 

Each  by  himself  alone  and  singly  seen, 

A  tower  of  strength  ;  in  massy  phalanx  knit, 

And  in  embattled  squadron  rushing  on, 

A  sea  of  valour,  dread,  invincible. 

Books  of  this  sort,  or  sacred,  or  profane,  'f  /jr 

Which  virtue  helped,  were  titled,  not  amiss,  *  ' 

*•  The  medicine  of  the  mind  :"  who  read  them,  read        f-'^/*^' 
Wisdom,  and  was  refreshed  ;  and  on  his  path 
Of  pilgrimage,  with  healthier  step  advanced. 

In  mind,  in  matter,  much  was  difficult 
To  understand.     But,  what  in  deepest  night 
Retired,  inscrutable,  mysterious,  dark, — 
Was  evil,  God's  decrees,  and  deeds  decreed. 
Responsible  :  why  God,  the  just  and  good, 
Omnipotent  and  wise,  should  suffer  sin 
To  rise :  why  man  was  free,  accountable  ; 
Yet  God  foreseeing,  overruling  all. 
Where'er  the  eye  could  turn,  whatever  tract 
Of  moral  thought  it  took,  by  reason's  torch, 
Or  Scripture's  led,  before  it  still  this  mount 
Sprung  up,  impervious,  insurmountable, 


8Q  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

Above  the  human  stature  rising  far  ; 

Horizon  of  the  mind,  surrounding  still 

The  vision  of  the  soul  with  clouds  and  gloom. 

Yet  did  they  oft  attempt  to  scale  its  sides, 

And  gain  its  top.     Philosophy,  to  climb, 

With  all  her  vigour,  toiled  from  age  to  age ; 

From  age  to  age.  Theology,  with  all 

Her  vigour,  toiled  ;   and  vagrant  Fancy  toiled. 

Not  weak  and  foolish  only,  but  the  wise, 

Patient,  courageous,  stout,  sound-headed  man, 

Of  proper  discipline,  of  excellent  wind. 

And  strong  of  intellectual  limb,  toiled  hard  ; 

And  oft  above  the  reach  of  common  eye 

Ascended  far,  and  seemed  well  nigh  the  top  , 

But  only  seemed  ;  for  still  another  top 

Above  them  rose,  till,  giddy  grown  and  mad. 

With  gazing  at  these  dangerous  heights  of  God, 

They  tumbled  down,  and  in  their  raving  said. 

They  o'er  the  summit  saw.     And  some  believed , 

Believed  a  lie  ;  for  never  man  on  earth, 

That  mountain  crossed,  or  saw  its  farther  side. 

Around  it  lay  the  wreck  of  many  a  Sage, 

Divine,  Philosopher  ;  and  many  more 

Fell  daily,  undeterred  by  milHons  fallen  ; 

Each  wondering  why  he  failed  to  comprehend 

God,  and  with  finite  measure  infinite. 

To  pass  it,  was  no  doubt  desirable  ; 

And  few  of  any  intellectual  size. 

That  did  not,  some  time  in  their  day,  attempt ; 

But  all  in  vain ;  for  as  the  distant  hill. 

Which  on  the  right  or  left,  the  traveller's  eye 

Bounds,  seems  advancing  as  he  walks,  and  oft 

He  looks,  and  looks,  and  thinks  to  pass  ;  but  still 

It  forward  moves,  and  mocks  his  bafltled  sight, 

Till  night  descends,  and  wraps  the  scene  in  gloom, 

So  did  this  moral  height  the  vision  mock  ; 

So  lifted  up  its  dark  and  cloudy  head. 

Before  the  eye,  and  met  it  evermore, 


BOOK  IV.  81 

And  some,  provoked,  accused  the  righteous  God. 

Accused  of  what  ?  hear  human  boldness  now  ! 

Hear  guilt,  hear  folly,  madness,  all  extreme  ! 

Accused  of  what  ?  the  God  of  truth  accused 

Of  cruelty,  injustice,  wickedness. 

Abundant  sin !  because  a  mortal  man, 

A  worm,  at  best,  of  small  capacity. 

With  scarce  an  atom  of  Jehovah's  works 

Before  him,  and  with  scarce  an  hour  to  look 

Upon  them,  should  presume  to  censure  God, 

The  infinite  and  uncreated  God  ! 

To  sit,  in  judgment,  on  Himself,  his  works. 

His  providence  !  and  try,  accuse,  condemn  ! 

If  there  is  aught,  thought  or  to  think,  absurd, 

Irrational  and  wicked,  this  is  more, 

This  most ;  the  sin  of  devils,  or  of  those 

To  devils  growing  fast.     Wise  men  and  good 

Accused  themselves,  not  God ;  and  put  their  hands 

Upon  their  mouths,  and  in  the  dust  adored.     \ 

The  Christian's  faith  had  many  mysteries  too ; 
The  uncreated  holy  Three  in  One, 
Divine  incarnate,  human  in  divine  ; 
The  inward  call ;  the  Sanctifying  Dew 
Coming  unseen,  unseen  departing  thence  ; 
Anew  creating  all,  and  yet  not  heard  ; 
Compelling,  yet  not  felt.     Mysterious  these, 
Not  that  Jehovah  to  conceal  them  wished, 
Not  that  religion  wished.     The  Christian  faith, 
Unlike  the  timorous  creeds  of  pagan  priests, 
Was  frank,  stood  forth  to  view,  invited  all, 
To  prove,  examine,  search,  investigate. 
And  gave  herself  a  light  to  see  her  by. 
Mysterious  these,  because  too  large  for  eye 
Of  man,  too  long  for  human  arm  to  mete. 

Go  to  yon  mount,  which  on  the'  north  side  stands 
Of  New  Jerusalem,  and  lifts  its  head 


82  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Serene  in  glory  bright,  except  the  hill, 

The  Sacred  Hill  of  God,  whereon  no  foot 

Must  tread,  highest  of  all  creation's  walks, 

And  overlooking  all,  in  prospect  vast, 

From  out  the  ethereal  blue.    That  cliff  ascend. 

Gaze  thence,  around  thee  look  ;  naught  now  impedes 

Thy  view  ;  yet  still  thy  vision,  purified 

And  strong  although  it  be,  a  boundary  meets  ; 

Or  rather,  thou  wilt  say,  thy  vision  fails 

To  gaze  throughout  illimitable  space, 

And  find  the  end  of  infinite  :  and  so 

It  was  with  all  the  mysteries  of  faith. 

God  set  them  forth  unveiled  to  the  full  gaze 

Of  man,  and  asked  him  to  investigate  ; 

But  Reason's  eye,  however  purified. 

And  on  whatever  tall  and  goodly  height 

Of  observation  placed,  to  comprehend 

Them  fully,  sought  in  vain  :  in  vain  seeks  still ; 

But  wiser  now  and  humbler,  she  concludes, 

From  what  she  knows  already  of  his  love 

All  gracious,  that  she  cannot  understand  ; 

And  giveis  him  credit,  reverence,  praise  for  all. 

Another  feature  in  the  ways  of  God, 
That  wondrous  seemed,  and  made  some  men  complam, 
Was  the  unequal  gift  of  worldly  things. 
Great  was  the  difference,  indeed,  of  men 
Externally,  from  beggar  to  the  prince. 
The  highest  take  and  lowest,  and  conceive 
The  scale  between.     A  noble  of  the  earth, 
One  of  its  great,  in  splendid  mansion  dwelt ; 
Was  robed  in  silk  and  gold ;  and  every  day 
Fared  sumptuously  j  was  titled,  honoured,  served. 
Thousands  his  nod  awaited,  and  his  will 
For  law  received.    Whole  provinces  his  march 
Attended,  and  his  chariot  drew,  or  on 
Their  shoulders  bore  alofl  the  precious  man. 
Millions,  abased,  fell  prostrate  at  his  feet : 


S3 


And  millions  more  thundered  adoring  praise. 

As  far  as  eye  could  reach,  he  called  the  land 

His  own,  and  added  yearly  to  his  fields. 

Like  tree  that  of  the  soil  took  healthy  root, 

He  grew  on  every  side,  and  towered  on  high, 

And  over  half  a  nation,  shadowing  wide, 

He  spread  his  ample  boughs.     Air,  earth,  and  sea, 

Nature  entire,  the  brute,  and  rational, 

To  please  him  ministered,  and  vied  among 

Themselves,  who  most  should  his  desires  prevent, 

Watching  the  moving  of  his  rising  thoughts, 

Attentively,  and  hasting  to  fulfil. 

His  palace  rose  and  kissed  the  gorgeous  clouds. 

Streams  bent  their  music  to  his  will,  trees  sprung. 

The  native  waste  put  on  luxuriant  robes  ; 

And  plains  of  happy  cottages  cast  out 

Their  tenants,  and  became  a  hunting-field. 

Before  him  bowed  the  distant  isles,  with  fruits 

And  spices  rare  ;  the  South  her  treasures  brought, 

The  East  and  West  sent ;  and  the  frigid  North 

Came  with  her  oflTering  of  glossy  furs. 

Musicians  soothed  his  ear  with  airs  select : 

Beauty  held  out  her  arms  ;  and  every  man 

Of  cunning  skill,  and  curious  device. 

And  endless  multitudes  of  liveried  wights, 

His  pleasure  waited  with  obsequious  look. 

And  when  the  wants  of  nature  were  supplied, 

And  common-place  extravagances  filled, 

Beyond  their  asking  ;  and  caprice  itself, 

In  all  its  zig-zag  appetites,  gorged  full, 

The  man  new  wants  and  new  expenses  planned 

Nor  planned  alone.     Wise,  learned,  sober  men. 

Of  cogitation  deep,  took  up  his  case, 

And  planned  for  him  new  modes  of  folly  wild  ; 

Contrived  new  wishes,  wants,  and  wondrous  means 

Of  spending  with  despatch  ;  yet,  after  all. 

His  fields  extended  still,  his  riches  grew, 

And  what  seemed  splendour  infinite,  increased. 


84  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

So  lavishly  upon  a  single  man 

Did  Providence  his  bounties  daily  shower. 

Turn  now  thy  eye,  and  look  on  Poverty ; 
Look  on  the  lowest  of  her  ragged  sons. 
We  find  him  by  the  way,  sitting  in  dust ; 
He  has  no  bread  to  eat,  no  tongue  to  ask, 
No  limbs  to  walk,  no  home,  no  house,  no  friend. 
Observe  his  goblin  cheek,  his  wretched  eye  j 
See  how  his  hand,  if  any  hand  he  has. 
Involuntary  opens,  and  trembles  forth, 
As  comes  the  traveller's  foot ;  and  hear  his  groan, 
His  long  and  lamentable  groan,  announce 
The  want  that  gnaws  within.     Severely  now 
The  sun  scorches  and  burns  his  old  bald  head  : 
The  frost  now  glues  him  to  the  chilly  earth. 
On  him  hail,  rain,  and  tempest,  rudely  beat ; 
And  all  the  winds  of  heaven,  in  jocular  mood, 
Sport  with  his  withered  rags,  that,  tossed  about, 
Display  his  nakedness  to  passers  by. 
And  grievously  burlesque  the  human  form. 
Observe  him  yet  more  narrowly.     His  limbs, 
With  palsy  shaken,  about  him,  blasted  lie  ; 
And  all  his  flesh  is  full  of  putrid  sores 
And  noisome  wounds,  his  bones,  of  racking  pains. 
Strange  vesture  this  for  an  immortal  soul ! 
Strange  retinue  to  wait  a  lord  of  earth  ! 
It  seems  as  Nature,  in  some  surly  mood, 
After  debate  and  musing  long,  had  tried 
How  vile  and  miserable  thing  her  hand 
Could  fabricate,  then  made  this  meagre  man: 
A  sight  so  full  of  perfect  misery. 
That  passengers  their  faces  turned  away, 
And  hasted  to  be  gone  ;  and  delicate 
And  tender  women  took  another  path. 

This  great  disparity  of  outward  things 
Taught  many  lessons ;  but  this  taught  in  chief, 


85 


Though  learned  by  few  :  That  God  no  value  set, 
That  man  should  none,  on  goods  of  worldly  kind! 
On  transitory,  frail,  external  things, 
OY  migratory,  ever-changing  sort : 
And  further  taught,  that  in  the  soul  alone, 
The  thinking,  reasonable,  willing  soul, 
God  placed  the  total  excellence  of  man ; 
And  meant  him  evermore  to  seek  it  there. 

But  stranger  still  the  distribution  seemed 
Of  intellect,  though  fewer  here  complained  ; 
Each  with  his  share,  upon  the  whole,  content. 
One  man  there  was,  and  many  such  you  might 
Have, met,  who  never  had  a  dozen  thoughts 
In  all  his  life,  and  never  changed  their  course  ; 
But  told  them  o'er,  each  in  its  customed  place, 
From  morn  till  night,  from  youth  to  hoary  age. 
Little  above  the  ox  that  grazed  the  field, 
His  reason  rose  ;  so  weak  his  memory, 
The  name  his  mother  called  him  by,  he  scarce 
Remembered  ;  and  his  judgment  so  untaught, 
That  what  at  evening  played  along  the  swamp, 
Fantastic,  clad  in  robe  of  fiery  hue, 
He  thought  the  devil  in  disguise,  and  fled 
With  quivering  heart  and  winged  footsteps  home 
The  word  philosophy  he  never  heard, 
Or  science  ;  never  heard  of  liberty, 
Necessity,  or  laws  of  gravitation  ; 
And  never  had  an  unbelieving  doubt. 
Beyond  his  native  vale  he  never  looked ; 
But  thought  the  visual  line,  that  girt  him  round, 
The  world's  extreme  ;  and  thought  the  silver  Moon, 
That  nightly  o'er  him  led  her  virgin  host. 
No  broader  than  his  father's  shield.     He  lived, — 
Lived  where  his  father  lived,  died  where  he  died. 
Lived  happy,  and  died  happy,  and  was  saved. 
Be  not  surprised.     He  loved  and  served  his  God. 
8 


86  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

There  was  another,  large  of  understanding, 
Of  memory  infinite,  of  judgment  deep, 
Who  knew  all  learning,  and  all  science  knew  j 
And  all  phenomena,  in  heaven  and  earth, 
Traced  to  their  causes ;  traced  the  labyrinths 
Of  thought,  association,  passion,  will ; 
And  all  the  subtle,  nice  affinities 
Of  matter  traced,  its  virtues,  motions,  laws ; 
And  most  familiarly  and  deeply  talked 
Of  mental,  moral,  natural,  divine. 
Leaving  the  earth  at  will,  he  soared  to  heaven, 
And  read  the  glorious  visions  of  the  skies ; 
And  to  the  music  of  the  rolling  spheres 
Intelligently  listened  ;  and  gazed  far  back 
Into  the  awful  depths  of  Deity  ; 
Did  all  that  mind  assisted  most  could  do ; 
And  yet  in  misery  lived,  in  misery  died. 
Because  he  wanted  holiness  of  heart. 

A  deeper  lesson  this  to  mortals  taught, 
And  nearer  cut  the  branches  of  their  pride  : 
That  not  in  mental,  but  in  moral  worth, 
God  excellence  placed  ;  and  only  to  the  good, 
To  virtue,  granted  happiness,  alone. 

Admire  the  goodness  of  Almighty  God  I 
He  riches  gave,  he  intellectual  strength. 
To  few,  and  therefore  none  commands  to  be 
Or  rich,  or  learned  ;  nor  promises  reward 
Of  peace  to  these.     On  all,  He  moral  worth 
Bestowed,  and  moral  tribute  asked  from  all. 
And  who  that  could  not  pay  ?  who  born  so  poor. 
Of  intellect  so  mean,  as  not  to  know 
What  seemed  the  best ;  and,  knowing,  might  not  do  ^ 
As  not  to  know  what  God  and  conscience  bade. 
And  what  they  bade  not  able  to  obey  ? 
And  he,  who  actedthus,  fulfilled  the  law 


BOOK  IV.  87 

Eternal,  and  its  promise  reaped  of  peace  ; 
Found  peace  this  way  alone  :  who  sought  it  else, 
Sought  mellow  grapes  beneath  the  icy  Pole, 
Sought  blooming  roses  on  the  cheek  of  death, 
Sought  substance  in  a  world  of  fleeting  shades. 

Take  one  example,  to  our  purpose  quite. 
A  man  of  rank,  and  of  capacious  soul. 
Who  riches  had  and  fame,  beyond  desire, 
An  heir  of  flattery,  to  titles  born. 
And  reputation,  and  luxurious  life  : 
Yet,  not  content  with  ancestorial  name, 
Or  to  be  known  because  his  fathers  were, 
He  on  this  height  hereditary  stood. 
And,  gazing  higher,  purposed  in  his  heart 
To  take  another  step.     Above  him  seemed. 
Alone,  the  mount  of  song,  the  lofty  seat 
Of  canonized  bards  ;  and  thitherward, 
By  nature  taught,  and  inward  melody, 
In  prime  of  youth,  he  bent  his  eagle  eye. 
No  cost  was  spared.     What  books  he  wished,  he  read  ', 
What  sage  to  hear,  he  heard  ;  what  scenes  to  see. 
He  saw.     And  first  in  rambling  school-boy  days 
Britannia's  mountain-walks,  and  heath-girt  lakes, 
And  story-telling  glens,  and  founts,  and  brooks, 
And  maids,  as  dew-drops  pure  and  fair,  his  soul 
With  grandeur  filled,  and  melody,  and  love. 
Then  travel  came,  and  took  him  where  he  wished. 
He  cities  saw,  and  courts,  and  princely  pomp  j 
And  mused  alone  on  ancient  mountain  brows  ; 
And  mused  on  battle-fields,  where  valour  fought 
In  other  days  ;  and  mused  on  ruins  grey 
With  years  ;  and  drank  from  old  and  fabulous  wells, 
And  plucked  the  vine  that  first-born  prophets  plucked ; 
And  mused  on  famous  tombs,  and  on  the  wave 
Of  Ocean  mused,  and  on  the  desert  waste  ; 
The  heavens  and  earth  of  every  country  saw. 
Where'er  the  old  inspiring  Genii  dwelt, 


e»  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Aught  that  could  rouse,  expand,  refine  the  soul, 
Thither  he  went,  and  meditated  there. 

He  touched  his  harp,  and  nations  heard,  entranced. 
As  some  vast  river  of  unfailing  source, 
Rapid,  exhaustless,  deep,  his  numbers  flowed. 
And  opened  new  fountains  in  the  human  heart. 
Where  Fancy  halted,  weary  in  her  flight. 
In  other  men,  his,  fresh  as  morning,  rose. 
And  soared  untrodden  heights,  and  seemed  at  home, 
Where  angels  bashful  looked.     Others,  though  great, 
Beneath  their  argument  seemed  struggling  whiles  ; 
He  from  above  descending  stooped  to  touch 
The  loftiest  thought ;  and  proudly  stooped,  as  though 
It  scarce  deserved  his  verse.    With  Nature's  self 
He  seemed  an  old  acquaintance,  free  to  jest 
At  will  with  all  her  glorious  majesty. 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  "the  Ocean's  mane," 
And  played  familiar  with  his  hoary  locks ; 
Stood  on  the  Alps,  stood  on  the  Apennines, 
And  with  the  thunder  talked,  as  friend  to  friend ; 
And  wove  his  garland  of  the  lightning's  wing, 
In  sportive  twist,  the  lightning's  fiery  wing, 
Which,  as  the  footsteps  of  the  dreadful  God, 
Marching  upon  the  storm  in  vengeance,  seemed  ; 
Then  turned,  and  with  the  grasshopper,  who  sung 
His  evening  song  beneath  his  feet,  conversed. 
Suns,  moons,  and  stars,  and  clouds,  his  sisters  were  ; 
Rocks,  mountains,  meteors,  seas,  and  winds,  and  storms, 
His  brothers,  younger  brothers,  whom  he  scarce 
As  equals  deemed.     All  passions  of  all  men. 
The  wild  and  tame,  the  gentle  and  severe; 
All  thoughts,  all  maxims,  sacred  and  profane  ; 
All  creeds,  all  seasons.  Time,  Eternity  ; 
All  that  was  hated,  and  all  that  was  dear ; 
All  that  was  hoped,  all  that  was  feared,  by  man ; 
He  tossed  about,  as  tempest,  withered  leaves, 
Then,  smiling,  looked  upon  the  wreck  he  made. 


BOOK  IV.  89 

With  terror  now  he  froze  the  cowering  blood, 
And  now  dissolved  the  heart  in  tenderness ; 
Yet  would  not  tremble,  would  not  weep  himself; 
But  back  into  his  soul  retired,  alone, 
Dark,  sullen,  proud,  gazing  contemptuously 
On  hearts  and  passions  prostrate  at  his  feet. 
So  Ocean  from  the  plains  his  waves  had  late 
To  desolation  swept,  retired  in  pride. 
Exulting  in  the  glory  of  his  might, 
And  seemed  to  mock  the  ruin  he  had  wrought. 

As  some  fierce  comet  of  tremendous  size. 
To  which  the  stars  did  reverence,  as  it  passed. 
So  he  through  learning  and  through  fancy  took 
His  flight  sublime,  and  on  the  loftiest  top 
Of  Fame's  dread  mountain  sat ;  not  soiled  and  worn, 
As  if  he  from  the  earth  had  laboured  up  ; 
But  as  some  bird  of  heavenly  plumage  fair, 
He  looked,  which  down  from  higher  regions  came, 
And  perched  it  there,  to  see  what  lay  beneath. 

The  nations  gazed,  and  wondered  much,  and  praised. 
Critics  before  him  fell  in  humble  plight, 
Confounded  fell,  and  made  debasing  signs 
To  catch  his  eye,  and  stretched,  and  swelled  themselves 
To  bursting  nigh,  to  utter  bulky  words 
Of  admiration  vast :  and  many,  too, 
Many  that  aimed  to  imitate  his  flight, 
With  weaker  wing,  unearthly  fluttering  made. 
And  gave  abundant  sport  to  after  days. 

Great  man  !  the  nations  gazed,  and  wondered  much, 
And  praised  ;  and  many  called  his  evil  good. 
Wits  wrote  in  favour  of  his  wickedness, 
And  kings  to  do  him  honour  took  delight. 
Tims,  full  of  titles,  flattery,  honour,  fame. 
Beyond  desire,  beyond  ambition,  full. 
He  died.    He  died  of  what  ^    Of  wretchedness  ;— 
8* 


90  THE    COURSE    OP    TIME. 

Drank  every  cup  of  joy,  heard  every  trump 

Of  fame,  drank  early,  deeply  drank,  drank  draughts 

That  common  millions  might  have  quenched ;  then  died 

Of  thirst,  because  there  was  no  more  to  drink. 

His  goddess,  Nature,  wooed,  embraced,  enjoyed, 

Fell  from  his  arms,  abhorred ;  his  passions  died^ 

Died,  all  but  dreary,  solitary  Pride  ; 

And  all  his  sympathies  in  being  died. 

As  some  ill -guided  bark,  well  built  and  tall, 

Which  angry  tides  cast  out  on  desert  shore, 

And  then,  retiring,  left  it  there  to  rot 

And  moulder  in  the  winds  and  rains  of  heaven  ; 

So  he,  cut  from  the  sympathies  of  life, 

And  cast  ashore  from  pleasures  boisterous  surge, 

A  wandering,  weary,  worn,  and  wretched  thing. 

Scorched,  and  desolate,  and  blasted  soul, 

A  gloomy  wilderness  of  dying  thought, — 

Repined,  and  groaned,  and  withered  from  the  earth. 

His  groanings  filled  the  land,  his  numbers  filled ; 

And  yet  he  seemed  ashamed  to  groan : — Poor  man ! — 

Ashamed  to  ask,  and  yet  he  needed  help. 

Proof  this,  beyond  all  lingering  of  doubt. 
That  not  with  natural  or  mental  wealth, 
Was  God  delighted,  or  his  peace  secured ; 
That  not  in  natural  or  mental  wealth. 
Was  human  happiness  or  grandeur  found. 
Attempt  how  monstrous,  and  how  surely  vain ! 
With  things  of  earthly  sort,  with  aught  but  God, 
With  aught  but  moral  excellence,  truth,  and  love, 
To  satisfy  and  fill  the  immortal  soul ! 
Attempt,  vain  inconceivably !  attempt. 
To  satisfy  the  Ocean  with  a  drop, 
To  marry  Immortality  to  Death, 
And  with  the  unsubstantial  Shade  of  Time, 
To  fill  the  embrace  of  all  Eternity  ! 


COURSE   OF  TIME. 


BOOK  V. 


Praise  God,  ye  servants  of  the  Lord!  praise  God, 

Ye  angels  strong  !  praise  God,  ye  sons  of  men  ! 

Praise  him  who  made,  and  who  redeemed  your  souls , 

Who  gave  you  hope,  reflection,  reason,  will  j 

Minds  that  can  pierce  eternity  remote, 

And  live  at  once  on  future,  present,  past : 

Can  speculate  on  systems  yet  to  make, 

And  back  recoil  on  ancient  days  of  Time, 

Of  Time,  soon  past,  soon  lost  among  the  shades 

Of  buried  years.     Not  so  the  actions  done 

In  Time,  the  deeds  of  reasonable  men. 

As  if  engraven  with  pen  of  iron  grain, 

And  laid  in  flinty  rock,  they  stand,  unchanged, 

Written  on  the  various  pages  of  the  past : 

If  good,  in  rosy  characters  of  love  j 

If  bad,  in  letters  of  vindictive  fire. 

God  may  forgive,  but  cannot  blot  them  out. 
Systems  begin  and  end.  Eternity 
Rolls  on  his  endless  years,  and  men,  absolved 
By  mercy  from  the  consequence,  forget 
The  evil  deed,  and  God  imputes  it  not ; 
But  neither  systems  ending  nor  begun, 


92  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Eternity  that  rolls  his  endless  years, 

Nor  men  absolved,  and  sanctified,  and  washed 

By  mercy  from  the  consequence,  nor  yet 

Forgetfulness,  nor  God  imputing  not, 

Can  wash  the  guilty  deed,  once  done,  from  out 

The  faithful  annals  of  the  past ;  who  reads, 

And  many  read,  there  finds  it,  as  it  was, 

And  is,  and  shall  for  ever  be, — a  dark, 

Unnatural,  and  loathly  moral  spot. 

The  span  of  Time  was  short,  indeed ;  and  now 
Three-fourths  were  past,  the  last  begun,  and  on 
Careering  to  its  close,  which  soon  we  sing. 
But  first  our  promise  we  redeem,  to  tell 
The  joys  of  Time,  her  joys  of  native  growth  ; 
And  briefly  must,  what  longer  tale  deserves. 

Wake,  dear  remembrances  !  wake,  childhood-days  ! 
Loves,  friendships,  wake  !  and  wake,  thou  morn  and  even ' 
Sun  !  with  thy  orient  locks,  night,  moon,  and  stars  ! 
And  thou,  celestial  bow  !  and  all  ye  woods. 
And  hills,  and  vales,  first  trod  in  dawning  life, 
And  hours  of  holy  musing,  wake  !  wake,  earth! 
And,  smiling  to  remembrance,  come,  and  bring, 
For  thou  canst  bring,  meet  argument  for  song 
Of  heavenly  harp,  meet  hearing  for  the  ear 
Of  heavenly  auditor,  exalted  high. 

God  gave  much  peace  on  earth,  much  holy  joy ; 
Oped  fountains  of  perennial  spring,  whence  flowed 
Abundant  happiness  to  all  who  wished 
To  drink ;  not  perfect  bliss  ; — that  dwells  with  us, 
Beneath  the  eyelids  of  the  Eternal  One, 
And  sits  at  his  right  hand  alone  ; — but  such 
As  well  deserved  the  name,  abundant  joy; 
Pleasures,  on  which  the  memory  of  saints 
Of  highest  glory,  still  delights  to  dwell. 


BOOK  V.  98 

It  was,  we  own,  subject  of  much  debate, 
And  worthy  men  stood  on  opposing  sides, 
Whether  the  cup  of  mortal  life  had  more 
Of  sour  or  sweet.     Vain  question  this,  when  asked 
In  general  terms,  and  worthy  to  be  left 
Unsolved.    If  most  was  sour,  the  drinker,  not 
The  cup,  we  blame.     Each  in  himself  the  means 
Possessed  to  turn  the  bitter  sweet,  the  sweet 
To  bitter.     Hence,  from  out  the  self-same  fount, 
Ono  nectar  drank,  another  draughts  of  gall. 
Hence,  from  the  self-same  quarter  of  the  sky, 
One  saw  ten  thousand  angels  look  and  smile  ; 
Another  saw  as  many  demons  frown. 
One  discord  heard,  where  harmony  inclined 
Another's  ear.     The  sweet  was  in  the  taste, 
The  beauty  in  the  eye,  and  in  the  ear 
The  melody  ;  and  in  the  man, — for  God 
Necessity  of  sinning  laid  on  none, — 
To  form  the  taste,  to  purify  the  eye. 
And  tune  the  ear,  that  all  he  tasted,  saw, 
Or  heard,  might  be  harmonious,  sweet,  and  fair. 
Who  would,  might  groan ;  who  would,  might  sing  for  joy. 

Nature  lamented  little.    Undevoured 
By  spurious  appetites,  she  found  enough. 
Where  least  was  found  ;  with  gleanings  satisfied, 
Or  crumbs,  that  from  the  hand  of  luxury  fell ; 
Yet  seldom  these  she  ate,  but  ate  the  bread 
Of  her  own  industry,  made  sweet  by  toil ; 
And  walked  in  robes  that  her  own  hand  had  spun ; 
And  slept  on  down  her  early  rising  bought. 
Frugal  and  diligent  in  business,  chaste 
And  abstinent,  she  stored  for  helpless  age. 
And,  keepmg  in  reserve  her  spring-day  health, 
And  dawning  relishes  of  life,  she  drank 
Her  evening  cup  with  excellent  appetite  ; 
And  saw  her  eldest  sun  decline,  as  fair 
As  rose  her  earliest  morn,  and  pleased  as  well. 


94  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Whether  in  crowds  or  solitudes,  in  streets 
Or  shady  groves,  dwelt  Happiness,  it  seems 
In  vain  to  ask,  her  nature  makes  it  vain. 
Though  poets  much,  and  hermits  talked,  and  sung 
Of  brooks,  and  crystal  founts,  and  weeping  dews, 
And  myrtle  bowers,  and  solitary  vales. 
And  with  the  nymph  made  assignations  there, 
And  wooed  her  with  the  love-sick  oaten  reed; 
And  sages  too,  although  less  positive. 
Advised  their  sons  to  court  her  in  the  shade. 
Delirious  babble  all !  Was  happiness, 
Was  self-approving,  God-approving  joy, 
In  drops  of  dew,  however  pure  ?  in  gales, 
However  sweet  ?  in  wells,  however  clear  ? 
Or  groves,  however  thick  with  verdant  shade  ? 

True,  these  were  of  themselves  exceeding  fair: 
How  fair  at  morn  and  even  !  worthy  the  walk 
Of  loftiest  mind,  and  gave,  when  all  within 
Was  right,  a  feast  of  overflowing  bliss; 
But  were  the  occasion,  not  the  cause  of  joy. 
They  waked  the  native  fountains  of  the  soul, 
Which  slept  before  ;  and  stirred  the  holy  tides 
Of  feeling  up,  giving  the  heart  to  drink 
From  its  own  treasures  draughts  of  perfect  sweet. 

The  Christian  faith,  which  better  knew  the  heart 
Of  man,  him  thither  sent  for  peace,  and  thus 
Declared  :  Who  finds  it,  let  him  find  it  there  ; 
Who  finds  it  not,  for  ever  let  him  seek 
In  vain ;  'tis  God's  most  holy,  changeless  will. 

True  Happiness  had  no  localities, 
No  tones  provincial,  no  peculiar  garb. 
Where  Duty  went,  she  went,  with  Justice  went, 
And  went  with  Meekness,  Charity,  and  Love. 
Where'er  a  tear  was  dried,  a  wounded  heart 
Bound  up,  a  bruised  spirit  with  the  dew 


95 


Of  sympathy  anointed,  or  a  pang 
Of  honest  suffering  soothed,  or  injury 
Repeated  ofl,  as  ofl  by  love  forgiven  ; 
"Where'er  an  evil  passion  was  subdued, 
Or  Virtue's  feeble  embers  fanned  ;  where'er 
A  sin  was  heartily  abjured,  and  lefl ; 
Where'er  a  pious  act  was  done,  or  breathed 
A  pious  prayer,  or  wished  a  pious  wish ; 
There  was  a  high  and  holy  place,  a  spot 
Of  sacred  light,  a  most  religious  fane, 
Where  Happiness,  descending,  sat  and  smiled. 

But  these  apart,  in  sacred  memory  lives 
The  morn  of  life,  first  morn  of  endless  days, 
Most  joyful  morn !  nor  yet  for  naught  the  joy. 
A  being  of  eternal  date  commenced, 
A  young  immortal  then  was  born  !  and  who 
Shall  tell  what  strange  variety  of  bliss 
Burst  on  the  infant  soul,  when  first  it  looked 
Abroad  on  God's  creation  fair,  and  saw 
The  glorious  earth  and  glorious  heaven,  and  face 
Of  man  sublime,  and  saw  all  new,  and  felt 
All  new  !  when  thought  awoke,  thought  never  more 
To  sleep  !  when  first  it  saw,  heard,  reasoned,  willed, 
And  triumphed  in  the  warmth  of  conscious  life  ! 

Nor  happy  only,  but  the  cause  of  joy. 
Which  those  who  never  tasted  always  mourned. 
What  tongue  ! — no   tongue  shall  t^U  what  bliss  o'l 

flowed 
The  mother's  tender  heart,  while  round  her  hung 
The  offspring  of  her  love,  and  lisped  her  name, 
^s  living  jewels  dropped  unstained  from  heaven, 
That  made  her  fairer  far,  and  sweeter  seem, 
Than  every  ornament  of  costliest  hue  ! 
And  who  hath  not  been  ravished,  as  she  passed 
With  all  her  playful  band  of  little  ones. 
Like  Luna,  with  her  daughters  of  the  sky, 


96  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

Walking  in  matron  majesty  and  grace  ? 

All  who  had  hearts  here  pleasure  found :  and  oft 

Have  I,  when  tired  with  heavy  task, — for  tasks 

Were  heavy  in  the  world  below, — relaxed 

My  weary  thoughts  among  their  guiltless  sports, 

And  led  them  by  their  little  hands  a-field, 

And  watched  them  run  and  crop  the  tempting  flower,— 

Which  oft,  unasked,  they  brought  me,  and  bestowed 

With  smiling  face,  that  waited  for  a  look 

Of  praise, — and  answered  curious  questions,  put 

In  much  simplicity,  but  ill  to  solve  ; 

And  heard  their  observations  strange  and  new, 

And  settled  whiles  their  little  quarrels,  soon 

Ending  in  peace,  and  soon  forgot  in  love. 

And  still  I  looked  upon  their  loveliness. 

And  sought  through  nature  for  similitudes 

Of  perfect  beauty,  innocence,  and  bliss, 

And  fairest  imagery  around  me  thronged  ; 

Dew-drops  at  day-spring  on  a  seraph's  locks, 

Roses  that  bathe  about  the  well  of  life, 

Young  Loves,  young  Hopes,  dancing  on  Morning's  cheek 

Gems  leaping  in  the  coronet  of  Love  ! 

So  beautiful,  so  full  of  life,  they  seemed 

As  made  entire  of  beams  of  angels'  eyes. 

Gay,  guileless,  sportive,  lovely,  little  things  ! 

Playing  around  the  den  of  Sorrow,  clad 

In  smiles,  believing  in  their  fairy  hopes, 

And  thinking  man  and  woman  true  !  all  joy, 

Happy  all  day,  and  happy  all  the  night  ! 

Hail,  holy  Love  !  thou  word  that  sums  all  bliss, 
Gives  and  receives  all  bliss,  fullest  when  most 
Thou  givest !  spring-head  of  all  felicity. 
Deepest  when  most  is  drawn  !  emblem  of  God  ! 
O'erflowing  most  when  greatest  numbers  drink  • 
Essence  that  binds  the  uncreated  Three, 
Chain  that  unites  creation  to  its  Lord, 
Centre  to  which  all  being  gravitates, 


BOOK  V.  97 

Eternal,  ever-growing,  happy  Love  ! 
Enduring  all,  hoping,  forgiving  all ; 
Instead  of  law,  fulfilling  every  law ; 
Entirely  blest,  because  thou  seekst  no  more, 
Hopest  not,  nor  fearst ;  but  on  the  present  livest, 
And  holdst  perfection  smiling  in  thy  arms. 
Mysterious,  infinite,  exhaustless  Love  ! 
On  earth  mysterious,  and  mysterious  still 
In  heaven  !  sweet  chord,  that  harmonizes  all 
The  harps  of  Paradise  !  the  spring,  the  well, 
That  fills  the  bowl  and  banquet  of  the  sky  ! 

But  why  should  I  to  thee  of  Love  divine  ? 
Who  happy,  and  not  eloquent  of  Love  ? 
Who  holy,  and,  as  thou  art,  pure,  and  not 
A  temple  where  her  glory  ever  dwells. 
Where  burn  her  fires,  and  beams  her  perfect  eye  ^ 

Kindred  to  this,  part  of  this  holy  flame. 
Was  youthful  love — the  sweetest  boon  of  Earth. 
Hail,  Love  !  first  Love,  thou  word  that  sums  all  bliss' 
The  sparkling  cream  of  all  Time's  blessedness, 
The  silken  down  of  happiness  complete  ! 
Discerner  of  the  ripest  grapes  of  joy, 
She  gathered,  and  selected  with  her  hand, 
All  finest  relishes,  all  fairest  sights. 
All  rarest  odours,  all  divinest  sounds. 
All  thoughts,  all  feelings  dearest  to  the  soul ; 
And  brought  the  holy  mixture  home,  and  filled 
The  heart  with  all  superlatives  of  bliss. 
But,  who  would  that  expound,  which  words  transcends, 
Must  talk  in  vain.     Behold  a  meeting  scene 
Of  early  love,  and  thence  infer  its  worth. 

It  was  an  eve  of  Autumn's  holiest  mood. 
The  corn  fields,  bathed  in  Cynthia's  silver  light, 
Stood  ready  for  the  reaper's  gathering  hand  j 
And  allthe  Winds  slept  soundly.    Nature  seemed, 
9 


98  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

In  silent  contemplation,  to  adore 

Its  Maker.     Now  and  then,  the  aged  leaf 

Fell  from  its  fellows,  rustling  to  the  ground ; 

And,  as  it  fell,  bade  man  think  on  his  end. 

On  vale  and  lake,  on  wood  and  mountain  high, 

With  pensive  wing  outspread,  sat  heavenly  Thought, 

Conversing  with  itself.     Vesper  looked  forth, 

From  out  her  western  hermitage,  and  smiled  ; 

And  up  the  east,  unclouded,  rode  the  Moon 

With  all  her  Stars,  gazing  on  earth  intense, 

As  if  she  saw  some  wonder  walking  there. 

Such  was  the  night,  so  lovely,  still,  serene, 
When,  by  a  hermit  thorn  that  on  the  hill 
Had  seen  a  hundred  flowery  ages  pass, 
A  damsel  kneeled  to  offer  up  her  prayer, 
Her  prayer  nightly  offered,  nightly  heard. 
This  ancient  thorn  had  been  the  meeting  place 
Of  love,  before  his  country's  voice  had  called 
The  ardent  youth  to  fields  of  honour  far 
Beyond  the  wave  :  and  hither  now  repaired. 
Nightly,  the  maid,  by  God's  all-seeing  eye 
Seen  only,  while  she  sought  this  boon  alone : 
"  Her  lover's  safety,  and  his  quick  return." 
In  holy,  humble  attitude  she  kneeled, 
And  to  her  bosom,  fair  as  moonbeam,  pressed 
One  hand,  the  other  lifled  up  to  heaven. 
Her  eye,  upturned,  bright  as  the  star  of  morn, 
As  violet  meek,  excessive  ardour  streamed, 
Wafling  away  her  earnest  heart  to  God. 
Her  voice,  scarce  uttered,  soft  as  Zephyr  sighs 
On  morning  lily's  .cheek,  though  soft  and  low, 
Yet  heard  in  heaven,  heard  at  the  mercy-seat. 
A  tear-drop  wandered  on  her  lovely  face  ; 
It  was  a  tear  of  faith  and  holy  fear, 
Pure  as  the  drops  that  hang  at  dawning-time. 
On  yonder  willows  by  the  stream  of  life. 
On  her  the  Moon  looked  steadfastly ;  the  Stars, 


BOOK  V.  99 

That  circle  nightly  round  the  eternal  Throne, 
Glanced  down,  well  pleased ;  and  Everlasting  Love 
Gave  grq^ious  audience  to  her  prayer  sincere. 

Oh,  had  her  lover  seen  her  thus  alone,  ^ 

Thus  holy,  wrestling  thus,  and  all  for  him  ! 
Nor  did  he  not :  for  oft-times  Providence, 
With  unexpected  joy  the  fervent  prayer 
Of  faith  surprised.     Returned  from  long  delay 
With  glory  crownsd  of  righteous  actions  won, 
The  sacred  thorn,  to  memory  dear,  first  sought 
The  youth,  and  found  it  at  the  happy  hour, 
Just  when  the  damsel  kneeled  herself  to  pray. 
Wrapped  in  devotion,  pleading  with  her  God, 
She  saw  him  not,  heard  not  his  foot  approach. 
All  holy  images  seemed  too  impure 
To  emblem  her  he  saw.     A  seraph  kneeled, 
Beseeching  for  his  ward,  before  the  Throne, 
Seemed  fittest,  pleased  him  best.  Sweet  was  the  thought  I 
But  sweeter  still  the  kind  remembrance  came. 
That  she  was  flesh  and  blood,  formed  for  himself, 
The  plighted  partner  of  his  future  life. 
And  as  they  met,  embraced,  and  sat,  embowered, 
In  woody  chambers  of  the  starry  night, 
Spirits  of  love  about  them  ministered. 
And  God,  approving,  blessed  the  holy  joy  ! 

Nor  unremembered  is  the  hour  when  friends 
Met.    Friends,  but  few  on  earth,  and  therefore  dear  , 
Sought  oft,  and  sought  almost  as  oft  in  vain  ; 
Yet  always  sought,  so  native  to  the  heart. 
So  much  desired,  and  coveted  by  all. 
Nor  wonder  thou, — thou  wonderest  not  nor  needst. 
Much  beautiful,  and  excellent,  and  fair 
Was  seen  beneath  the  sun  ;  but  naught  was  seen 
More  beautiful,  or  excellent,  or  fair. 
Than  face  of  faithful  friend,  fairest  when  seen 
In  darkest  day  ;  and  many  sounds  were  sweet. 


100  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Most  ravishing,  and  pleasant  to  the  ear ; 

But  sweeter  none  than  voice  of  faithful  friend, 

Sweet  always,  sweetest,  heard  in  loudest  storm. 

Some  I  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget ) 

My  early  friends,  friends  of  my  evil  day ; 

Friends  in  my  mirth,  friends  in  my  misery  too  ; 

Friends  given  by  God  in  mercy  and  in  love  •, 

My  counsellors,  my  comforters,  and  guides ; 

My  joy  in  grief,  my  second  bliss  in  joy. 

Companions  of  my  young  desires  ;  in  doubt, 

My  oracles,  my  wings  in  high  pursuit. 

Oh,  I  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget. 

Our  meeting  spots,  our  chosen,  sacred  hours, 

Our  burning  words  that  uttered  all  the  soul, 

Our  faces  beaming  with  unearthly  love  ; 

Sorrow  with  sorrow  sighing,  hope  with  hope 

Exulting,  heart  embracing  heart  entire. 

As  birds  of  social  feather  helping  each 

His  fellow's  flight,  we  soared  into  the  skies, 

And  cast  the  clouds  beneath  our  feet,  and  Earth 

With  all  her  tardy,  leaden-footed  Cares, 

And  talked  the  speech  and  ate  the  food  of  heaven  ! 

These  I  remember,  these  selectest  men, 

And  would  their  names  record  ;  but  what  avails 

My  mention  of  their  name  ?     Before  the  Throne 

They  stand  illustrious  'mong  the  loudest  harps, 

And  will  receive  thee  glad,  my  friend  and  theirs. 

For  all  are  friends  in  heaven,  all  faithful  friends ! 

And  many  friendships,  in  the  days  of  Time 

Begun,  are  lasting  here,  and  growing  still ; 

So  grows  ours  evermore,  both  theirs  and  mine. 

Nor  is  the  hour  of  lonely  walk  forgot, 
In  the  wide  desert,  where  the  view  was  large. 
Pleasant  were  many  scenes,  but  most  to  me 
The  solitude  of  vast  extent,  untouched 
By  hand  of  art,  where  Nature  sowed,  herself, 
And  reaped  her  crops )  whose  garments  w^ere  the  clouds , 


BOOK  V.  101 

Whose  minstrels,  brooks ;  whose  lamps,  the  moon  and 

stars ; 
Whose  organ-choir,  the  voice  of  many  waters ; 
Whose  banquets,  morning  dews  ;  whose  heroes,  storms  ; 
Wliose  warriors,  might}^  winds  ;  whose  lovers,  flowers  j 
Whose  orators,  the  thunderbolts  of  God  ; 
Whose  palaces,  the  everlasting  hills  ; 
Whose  ceiling,  heaven's  unfathomable  blue  ; 
And  from  whose  rocky  turrets,  battled  high. 
Prospect  immense  spread  out  on  all  sides  round, 
Lost  now  between  the  welkin  and  the  main, 
Now  walled  with  hills  that  slept  above  the  storm. 

Most  fit  was  such  a  place  for  musing  men. 
Happiest  sometimes  when  musing  without  aim. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  wondrous  sort  of  bliss 
The  lonely  bard  enjoyed,  when  forth  he  walked. 
Unpurposed  ;  stood,  and  knew  not  why  ;  sat  down. 
And  knew  not  where  ;  aro^e,  and  knew  not  when ; 
Had  eyes,  and  saw  not ;  ears,  and  nothing  heard  ; 
And  sought — sought  neither  Jieaven  nor  earth — sought 

naught, 
Nor  meant  to  think  ;  but  ran,  meantime,  through  vast 
Of  visionary  things,  fairer  than  aught 
That  was ;  and  saw  the  distant  tops  of  thoughts, 
Which  men  of  common  stature  never  saw, 
Greater  than  aught  that  largest  words  could  hold, 
Or  give  idea  of,  to  those  who  read. 
He  entered  in  to  Nature's  holy  place. 
Her  inner  chamber,  and  beheld  her  face 
Unveiled  ;  and  heard  unutterable  things. 
And  incommunicable  visions  saw  ; 
Things  then  unutterable,  and  visions  then 
Of  incommunicable  glory  bright ; 
But  by  the  lips  of  after  ages  formed 
To  words,  or  by  their  pencil  pictured  forth ; 
Who,  entering  farther  in,  beheld  again, 
And  heard  unspeakable  and  marvellous  things, 
9  '' 


102  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

\Vhich  other  ages  in  their  turn  revealed, 
And  left  to  others,  greater  wonders  still. 

T^he  earth  abounded  much  in  silent  wastes 
.  Npr  y^t  is  heaven  without  its  solitudes, 
Else'inconiplete  in  bliss,  whither  who  will 
May  oft  retire,  and  meditate  alone. 
Of  God,  redemption,  holiness,  and  love  j 
Nor  needs  to  fear  a  setting  sun,  or  haste 
Him  home  from  rainy  tempest  unforeseen, 
Or,  sighing,  leave  his  thoughts  for  want  of  time. 

But  whatsoever  was  both  good  and  fair, 
And  highest  relish  of  enjoyment  gave, 
In  intellectual  exercise  was  found. 
When  gazing  through  the  future,  present,  past. 
Inspired,  thought  linked  to  thought,  harmonious  flowed 
In  poetry — the  loftiest  mood  of  mind ; 
Or  when  philosophy  the  reason  led 
Deep  through  the  outward  circumstance  of  things ; 
And  saw  the  master-wheels  of  Nature  move  ; 
And  travelled  far  along  the  endless  line 
Of  certain  and  of  probable  ;  and  made. 
At  every  step,  some  new  discovery, 
That  gave  the  soul  sweet  sense  of  larger  room. 
High  these  pursuits,  and  sooner  to  be  named, 
Deserved;  at  present,  only  named,  again 
To  be  resumed,  and  praised  in  longer  verse. 

Abundant  and  diversified  above 
All  number,  were  the  sources  of  delight ; 
As  infinite  as  were  the  lips  that  drank ; 
And  to  the  pure,  all  innocent  and  pure  ; 
The  simplest  still  to  wisest  men  the  best. 
One  made  acquaintanceship  with  plants  and  flowers, 
And  happy  grew  in  telling  all  their  names ; 
One  classed  the  quadrupeds  ;  a  third,  the  fowls  ; 
Another  found  in  minerals  his  joy : 


And  I  have  seen  a  man,  a  worthy  mwa^^^^      j,  f^fi  j 
In  happy  mood  conversing  with  a  fl]p  T«  ^^  C  1 

And  as  he,  through  his  glass,  made  ft/Tffi^eJ,  y    £)  &i  W  ^ 
Beheld  its  wondrous  eye  and  plumajjfc^ime;^  c^'^ 

From  leaping  scarce  he  kept,  for  peri^^y>W  T  ^^.^^  ^ 

And  from  my  path  I  with  my  friend  have  1 
A  man  of  excellent  mind  and  excellent  heart, 
And  climbed  the  neighbouring  hill,  with  arduous  step, 
Fetching  from  distant  cairn,  or  from  the  earth 
Digging,  with  labour  sure,  the  ponderous  stone, 
Which,  having  carried  to  the  highest  top, 
We  downward  rolled  ;  and  as  it  strove,  at  first, 
With  obstacles  that  seemed  to  match  its  force, 
With  feeble,  crooked  motion  to  and  fro 
Wavering,  he  looked  with  interest  most  intense, 
And  prayed  almost ;  and  as  it  gathered  strength, 
And  straightened  the  current  of  its  furious  flow, 
Exulting  in  the  swiftness  of  its  course. 
And,  rising  now  with  rainbow-bound  immense, 
Leaped  down  careering  o'er  the  subject  plain, 
He  clapped  his  hands  in  sign  of  boundless  bliss, 
And  laughed  and  talked,  well  paid  for  all  his  toil : 
And  when  at  night  the  story  was  rehearsed, 
Uncommon  glory  kindled  in  his  eye.  / 

And  there  were,  too, — Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high, 
And  run  in  rapid  numbers  o'er  the  face 
Of  Nature's  scenery, — and  there  were  day 
And  night,  and  rising  suns  and  setting  suns, 
And  clouds  that  seemed  like  chariots  of  saints. 
By  fiery  coursers  drawn,  as  brightly  hued 
As  if  the  glorious,  bushy,  golden  locks 
Of  thousand  cherubim  had  been  shorn  off, 
And  on  the  temples  hung  of  Morn  and  Even. 
And  there  were  moons,  and  stars,  and  darkness  streaked 
With  light ;  and  voice  and  tempest  heard  secure, 
And  there  were  seasons  coming  evermore. 


104  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

And  going  still,  all  fair,  and  always  new, 

With  bloom,  and  fruit,  and  fields  of  hoary  grain. 

And  there  were  hills  of  flock,  and  groves  of  song, 

And  flowery  streams,  and  garden  walks  embowered, 

Where,  side  by  side,  the  rose  and  hly  bloomed  ; 

And  sacred  founts,  wild  harps,  and  moonlight  glens, 

And  forests  vast,  fair  lawns,  and  lonely  oaks, 

And  little  willows  sipping  at  the  brook  ; 

Old  wizard  haunts,  and  dancing  seats  of  mirth  ; 

Gay  festive  bowers,  and  palaces  in  dust ; 

Dark  owlet  nooks,  and  caves,  and  battled  rocks  ; 

And  winding  valleys,  roofed  with  pendent  shade  ;  ^ 

And  tall  and  perilous  clifls,  that  overlooked 

The  breadth  of  Ocean,  sleeping  on  his  waves ; 

Sounds,  sights,  smells,  tastes,  the  heaven  and  earth, 

profuse 
In  endless  sweets,  above  all  praise  of  song : 
For  not  to  use  alone  did  Providence 
Abound  ;  but  large  example  gave  to  man 
Of  grace,  and  ornament,  and  splendour  rich. 
Suited  abundantly  to  every  taste, 
In  bird,  beast,  fish,  winged  and  creeping  thing, 
In  herb,  and  flower,  and  in  the  restless  change, 
Which,  on  the  many-coloured  seasons,  made 
The  annual  circuit  of  the  fruitful  earth. 
Nor  do  I  aught  of  earthly  sort  remember, — 
If  partial  feeling  to  my  native  place 
Lead  not  my  lyre  astray, — of  fairer  view, 
And  comelier  walk,  than  the  blue  mountain-paths, 
And  snowy  cliffs  of  Albion  renowned ; 
Albion,  an  isle  long  blessed  with  gracious  laws. 
And  gracious  kings,  and  favoured  much  of  Heaven, 
Though  yielding  oft  penurious  gratitude. 
Nor  do  I  of  that  isle  remember  aught 
Of  prospect  more  sublime  and  beautiful, 
Than  Scotia's  northern  battlement  of  hills, 
Which  first  I  from  my  father's  house  beheld, 
At  dawn  of  life  ;  beloved  in  memory  still, 


106 


And  standard  still  of  rural  imagery. 
What  most  resembles  them,  the  fairest  seems, 
And  stirs  the  eldest  sentiments  of  bliss ; 
And,  pictured  on  the  tablet  of  my  heart, 
Their  distant  shapes  eternally  remain, 
And  in  ray  dreams  their  cloudy  tops  arise. 

Much  of  my  native  scenery  appears, 
And  presses  forward  to  be  in  my  song  ; 
But  must  not  now,  for  much  behind  awaits 
Of  higher  note.     Four  trees  I  pass  not  by, 
Whicli  o'er  our  house  their  evening  shadow  threw ; 
Tlu-ee  ash,  and  one  of  elm.     Tall  trees  they  were, 
And  old,  and  had  been  old  a,  century 
Before  my  day.     None  living  could  say  aught 
About  their  youth  ;  but  they  were  goodly  trees : 
And  oft  I  wondered, — as  I  sat  and  thought 
Beneath  their  summer  shade,  or,  in  the  night 
Of  winter,  heard  the  spirits  of  the  wind 
Growling  among  their  boughs, — how  they  had  grown 
So  high,  in  such  a  rough,  tempestuous  place  ; 
And  when  a  hapless  branch,  torn  by  the  blast. 
Fell  down,  I  mourned,  as  if  a  friend  had  fallen. 

These  I  distinctly  hold  in  memory  still, 
And  all  the  desert  scenery  around. 
Nor  strange,  that  recollection  there  should  dwell, 
Where  first  I  heard  of  God's  redeeming  love  ; 
First  felt  and  reasoned,  loved  and  was  beloved  ; 
And  first  awoke  the  harp  to  holy  song. 

To  hoar  and  green  there  was  enough  of  joy. 
Hopes,  friendships,  charities,  and  warm  pursuit. 
Gave  comfortable  flow  to  youthful  blood. 
And  there  were  old  remembrances  of  days, 
When,  on  the  glittering  dews  of  orient  life, 
Shone  sunshine  hopes,  unfailed,  unperjured,  then ; 
And  there  were  childish  sports,  and  school-boy  feats, 


106  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

And  school-boy  spots,  and  earnest  vows  of  love, 

Uttered,  when  passion's  boisterous  tide  ran  high, 

Sincerely  uttered,  though  but  seldom  kept : 

And  there  were  angel  looks,  and  sacred  hours 

Of  rapture,  hours  that  in  a  moment  passed. 

And  yet  were  wished  to  last  for  evermore  ; 

And  venturous  exploits,  and  hardy  deeds. 

And  bargains  shrewd,  achieved  in  manhood's  prime 

And  thousand  recollections,  gay  and  sweet, 

Which,  as  the  old  and  venerable  man 

Approached  the  grave,  around  him,  smiling,  flocked, 

And  breathed  new  ardour  through  his  ebbing  veins, 

And  touched  his  lips  with  endless  eloquence. 

And  cheered  and  much  refreshed  his  withered  heart. 

Indeed,  each  thing  remembered,  all  but  guilt. 
Was  pleasant,  and  a  constant  source  of  joy. 
Nor  lived  the  old  on  memory  alone. 
He  in  his  children  lived  a  second  life. 
With  them  again  took  root,  sprang  with  their  hopes, 
Entered  into  their  schemes,  partook  their  fears, 
Laughed  in  their  mirth,  a6d  in  their  gain  grew  rich. 
And  sometimes  on  the  eldest  cheek  was  seen 
A  smile  as  hearty  as  on  face  of  youth. 
That  saw  in  prospect  sunny  hopes  invite, 
Hope's  pleasures,  sung  to  harp  of  sweetest  note, 
Harp,  heard  with  rapture  on  Britannia's  hills, 
With  rapture  heard  by  me,  in  morn  of  life. 

Nor  small  the  joy  of  rest  to  mortal  men. 
Rest  after  labour,  sleep  approaching  soft. 
And  wrapping  all  the  weary  faculties 
In  sweet  repose.     Then  Fancy,  unrestrained 
By  sense  or  judgment,  strange  confusion  made 
Of  future,  present,  past,  combining  things 
Unseemly,  things  unsociable  in  nature. 
In  most  absurd  communion,  laughable, 
Though  sometimes  vexing  sore  the  slumbering  soul. 


107 


Sporting  at  will,  she,  through  her  airy  halls, 
With  moonbeams  paved,  and  canopied  with  stars, 
And  tapestried  with  marvellous  imagery, 
And  shapes  of  glory,  infinitely  fair. 
Moving  and  mixing  in  most  wondrous  dance, — 
Fantastically  walked,  but  pleased  so  well. 
That  ill  she  liked  the  judgment's  voice  severe. 
Which  called  her  home  when  noisy  morn  awoke. 
And  oft  she  sprang  beyond  the  bounds  of  Time 
On  her  swift  pinion  lifting  up  the  souls 
Of  righteous  men,  on  high  to  God  and  heaven, 
Where  they  beheld  unutterable  things ; 
And  heard  the  glorious  music  of  the  blessed, 
Circling  the  throne  of  the  Eternal  Three ; 
And,  with  the  spirits  unincarnate,  took 
Celestial  pastime,  on  the  hills  of  God, 
Forgetful  of  the  gloomy  pass  between. 

Some  dreams  were  useless,  moved  by  turbid  course 
Of  animal  disorder  ;  not  so  all. 
Deep  moral  lessons  some  impressed,  that  naught 
Could  afterwards  deface  :  and  oft  in  dreams. 
The  master  passion  of  the  soul  displayed 
His  huge  deformity,  concealed  by  day. 
Warning  the  sleeper  to  beware,  awake : 
And  oft  in  dreams,  the  reprobate  and  vile, 
Unpardonable  sinner, — as  he  seemed 
Toppling  upon  the  perilous  edge  of  hell, — 
In  dreadful  apparition,  saw,  before 
'  His  vision  pass,  the  shadows  of  the  damned ; 
And  saw  the  glare  of  hollow,  cursed  eyes 
Spring  from  the  skirts  of  the  infernal  night ; 
And  saw  the  souls  of  wicked  men,  new  dead. 
By  devils  hearsed  into  the  fiery  gulf; 
And  heard  the  burning  of  the  endless  flames ; 
And  lieard  the  weltering  of  the  waves  of  wrath ; 
And  sometimes,  too,  before  his  fancy,  passed 
The  Worm  that  never  dies,  writhing  its  folds 


108  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

In  hideous  sort,  and  with  eternal  Death 
Held  horrid  colloquy,  giving  the  wretch 
Unwelcome  earnest  of  the  wo  to  come. 
But  these  we  leave,  as  unbefitting  song, 
That  promised  happy  narrative  of  joy. 

But  what  of  all  the  joys  of  earth  was  most 
Of  native  growth,  most  proper  to  the  soil. 
Not  elsewhere  known,  in  worlds  that  never  fell, 
Was  joy  that  sprung  from  disappointed  wo. 
The  joy  in  grief,  the  pleasure  after  pain, 
Fears  turned  to  hopes,  meetings  expected  not, 
Deliverances  from  dangerous  attitudes, 
Better  for  worse,  and  best  sometimes  for  worst, 
And  all  the  seeming  ill  ending  in  good, — 
A  sort  of  happiness  composed,  which  none 
Has  had  experience  of,  but  mortal  man  ; 
yet  not  to  be  despised.    Look  back,  and  one 
Behold,  who  would  not  give  her  tear  for  all 
The  smiles  that  dance  about  the  cheek  of  Mirth. 

Among  the  tombs  she  walks  at  noon  of  night, 
In  miserable  garb  of  widowhood. 
Observe  her  yonder,  sickly,  pale,  and  sad, 
Bending  her  w^asted  body  o'er  the  grave 
Of  him  who  was  the  husband  of  her  youth. 
The  moonbeams,  trembhng  through  these  ancient  yews. 
That  stand  like  ranks  of  mourners  round  the  bed 
Of  death,  fall  dismally  upon  her  face. 
Her  little,  hollow,  withered  face,  almost 
Invisible,  so  worn  away  with  wo. 
The  tread  of  hasty  foot,  passing  so  late, 
Disturbs  her  not ;  nor  yet  the  roar  of  mirth, 
From  neighbouring  revelry  ascending  loud. 
She  hears,  sees  naught,  fears  naught.     One  thought 

alone 
Fills  all  her  heart  and  soul,  half  hopmg,  half 
Remembering,  sad,  unutterable  thought ! 


10® 


Uttered  by  silence  and  by  tears  alone. 

Sweet  tears  !   the  awful  language,  eloquent 

Of  infinite  affection,  far  too  big 

For  words.     She  sheds  not  many  now.    That  grass, 

Which  springs  so  rankly  o'er  the  dead,  has  drunk 

Already  many  showers  of  grief;  a  drop 

Or  two  are  all  that  now  remain  behind. 

And,  from  her  eye  that  darts  strange  fiery  beams, 

At  dreary  intervals,  drip  down  her  cheek, 

Falling  most  mournfully  from  bone  to  bone. 

But  yet  she  wants  not  tears.    That  babe,  that  hangs 

Upon  her  breast,  that  babe  that  never  saw 

Its  father — he  was  dead  before  its  birth — 

Helps  her  to  weep,  weeping  before  its  time, 

Taught  sorrow  by  the  mother's  melting  voice, 

Repeating  oft  the  father's  sacred  name. 

Be  not  surprised  at  this  expense  of  wo  ! 

The  man  she  mourns  was  all  she  called  her  own, 

The  music  of  her  ear,  light  of  her  eye, 

Desire  of  all  her  heart,  her  hope,  her  fear. 

The  element  in  which  her  passions  lived. 

Dead  now,  or  dying  all :  nor  long  shall  she 

Visit  that  place  of  skulls.     Night  after  night. 

She  wears  herself  away.    The  moonbeam,  now, 

That  falls  upon  her  unsubstantial  frame, 

Scarce  finds  obstruction ;  and  upon  her  bones. 

Barren  as  leafless  boughs  in  winter-time. 

Her  infant  fastens  his  little  hands,  as  oft, 

Forgetful,  she  leaves  him  a  while  unheld. 

But  look,  she  passes  not  away  in  gloom. 

A  light  from  far  illumes  her  face,  a  light  i 

That  comes  beyond  the  moon,  beyond  the  sun — 

The  light  of  truth  divine,  the  glorious  hope 

Of  resurrection  at  the  promised  morn, 

And  meetings  then  which  ne'er  shall  part  again. 

Indulge  another  note  of  kindred  tone, 
Where  grief  was  mixed  with  melancholy  joy. 
10 


110  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Our  sighs  were  numerous,  and  profuse  our  tearsj 
For  she,  we  lost,  was  lovely,  and  we  loved 
Her  much.     Fresh  in  our  memory,  as  fresh 
As  yesterday,  is  yet  the  day  she  died. 
It  was  an  April  day ;  and  blithely  all 
The  youth  of  nature  leaped  beneath  the  sun, 
And  promised  glorious  manhood)  and  our  hearts 
Were  glad,  and  round  them  danced  the  lightsome  bloody 
In  healthy  merriment,  when  tidings  came,, 
A  child  was  born :  and  tidings  came  again. 
That  she  who  gave  it  birth  was  sick  to  death. 
So  swift  trode  sorrow  on  the  heels  of  joy  ! 
We  gathered  round  her  bed,  and  bent  our  knees 
In  fervent  supplication  to  the  Throne 
Of  Mercy,  and  perfumed  our  prayers  with  sighs 
Sincere,  and  penitential  tears,  and  looks 
Of  self-abasement ;  but  we  sought  to  stay 
An  angel  on  the  earth,  a  spirit  ripe 
For  heaven ;  and  Mercy,  in  her  love,  refused, 
Most  merciful,  as  oft,  when  seeming  least! 
Most  gracious  when  she  seemed  the  most  to  frown ! 
The  room  I  well  remember,  and  the  bed 
On  which  she  lay,  and  all  the  faces  too, 
That  crowded  dark  and  mournfully  around. 
Her  father  there  and  mother,  bending,  stood ; 
And  down  their  aged  cheeks  fell  many  drops 
Of  bitterness.     Her  husband,  too,  was  there, 
And  brothers,  and  they  wept ;  her  sisters,  too, 
Did  weep  and  sorrow,  comfortless  ;  and  I, 
Too,  wept,  though  not  to  weeping  given;  and  all 
Within  the  house  was  dolorous  and  sad.  ^ 

This  I  remember  well ;  but  better  still, 
I  do  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget, 
The  dying  eye  !     That  eye  alone  was  bright, 
And  brighter  grew,  as  nearer  death  approached ; 
As  I  have  seen  the  gentle  little  flower 
Look  fairest  in  the  silver  beam  which  fell, 
Reflected  from  the  thunder-cloud  that  soon 


BOOK  V.  Ill 

Came  down,  and  o'er  the  desert  scattered  far 

And  wide  its  loveliness.     She  made  a  sign 

To  bring  her  babe — 'twas  brought,  and  by  her  placed. 

She  looked  upon  its  face,  that  neither  smiled 

Nor  wept,  nor  knew  who  gazed  upon't ;  and  laid 

Her  hand  upon  its  little  breast,  and  sought 

For  it,  with  look  that  seemed  to  penetrate 

The  heavens,  unutterable  blessings,  such 

As  God  to  dying  parents  only  granted, 

For  infajits  left  behind  them  in  the  world. 

**  God  keep  my  child  1"  we  heard  her  say,  and  heard 

No  more.     The  Angel  of  the  Covenant 

Was  come,  and,  faithful  to  his  promise,  stood, 

Prepared  to  walk  with  her  through  death's  dark  vale. 

And  now  her  eyes  grew  bright,  and  brighter  still, 

Too  bright  for  ours  to  look  upon,  suffused 

With  many  tears,  and  closed  without  a  cloud. 

They  set  as  sets  the  morning  star,  which  goes 

Not  down  behind  the  darkened  west,  nor  hides 

Obscured  among  the  tempests  of  the  sky, 

But  melts  away  into  the  light  of  heaven. 

Loves,  friendships,  hopes,  and  dear  remembrances, 
The  kind  embracings  of  the  heart,  and  hours 
Of  happy  thought,  and  smiles  coming  to  tears, 
And  glories  of  the  heaven  and  starry  cope 
Above,  and  glories  of  the  earth  beneath, — 
These  were  the  rays  that  wandered  through  the  gloom 
Of  mortal  life ;  wells  of  the  wilderness. 
Redeeming  features  in  the  face  of  Time, 
Sweet  drops,  that  made  the  mixed  cup  of  Earth 
A  palatable  draught — too  bitter  else. 

About  the  joys  and  pleasures  of  the  world. 
This  question  was  not  seldom  in  debate  : 
Whether  the  righteous  man,  or  sinner,  had 
The  greatest  share,  and  relished  them  the  most  ? 
Truth  gives  the  answer  thus,  gives  it  distinct, 


112  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Nor  needs  to  reason  long  :  The  righteous  man. 

For  what  was  he  denied  of  earthly  growth, 

Worthy  the  name  of  good  ?  Truth  answers,  Naught. 

Had  he  not  appetites,  and  sense,  and  will  ? 

Might  he  not  eat,  if  Providence  allowed. 

The  finest  of  the  wheat  ?    Might  he  not  drink 

The  choicest  wine  ?     True,  he  was  temperate  ; 

But,  then,  was  temperance  a  foe  to  peace  ? 

Might  he  not  rise,  and  clothe  himself  in  gold  ? 

Ascend,  and  stand  in  palaces  of  kings  ? 

True,  he  was  honest  still  and  charitable  : 

Were,  then,  these  virtues  foes  to  human  peace  ? 

Might  he  not  do  exploits,  and  gain  a  name  ? 

Most  true,  he  trode  not  down  a  fellow's  right, 

Nor  walked  up  to  a  throne  on  skulls  of  men : 

Were  justice,  then,  and  mercy,  foes  to  peace  ? 

Had  he  not  friendships,  loves,  and  smiles,  and  hopes-* 

Sat  not  around  his  table  sons  and  daughters  ? 

Was  not  his  ear  with  music  pleased  ?  his  eye 

With  light  ?  his  nostrils  with  perfumes  ?    his  lips 

With  pleasant  relishes  ?     Grew  not  his  herds  ? 

Fell  not  the  rain  upon  his  meadows?  reaped 

He  not  his  harvests  ?  and  did  not  his  heart 

Revel,  at  will,  through  all  the  charities 

And  sympathies  of  nature,  unconfined  ? 

And  were  not  these  all  sweetened  and  sanctified 

By  dews  of  holiness,  shed  from  above  ? 

Might  he  not  walk  through  Fancy's  airy  halls  ? 

Might  he  not  History's  ample  page  survey  ? 

Might  he  not,  finally,  explore  the  depths 

Of  mental,  moral,  natural,  divine  ? 

But  why  enumerate  thus  ?     One  word  enough. 

There  was  no  joy  in  all  created  things. 

No  drop  of  sweet,  that  turned  not  in  the  end 

To  sour,  of  which  the  righteous  man  did  not 

Partake  ;  partake,  invited  by  the  voice 

Of  God,  his  Father's  voice,  who  gave  him  all 

His  heart's  desire  :  and  o'er  the  sinner  still. 


BOOK    V  113 

The  Christian  had  this  one  advantage  more, 
That  when  his  earthly  pleasures  failed, — and  fail 
They  always  did  to  every  soul  of  man, — 
He  sent  his  hopes  on  high,  looked  up,  and  reached 
His  sickle  forth,  and  reaped  the  fields  of  heaven, 
And  plucked  the  clusters  from  the  vines  of  God. 

Nor  was  the  general  aspect  of  the  world 
Always  a  moral  waste.     A  time  there  came. 
Though  few  believed  it  e'er  should  come  ;  a  time, 
Typed  by  the  Sabbath  day  recurring  once 
In  seven,  and  by  the  year  of  rest  indulged 
Septennial  to  the  lands  on  Jordan's  banks  , 
A  time  foretold  by  Judah's  bards  in  words 
Of  fire,  a  time,  seventh  part  of  time,  and  set 
Before  the  eighth  and  last,  the  Sabbath  day 
Of  all  the  earth,  when  all  had  rest  and  peace. 
Before  its  coming  many  to  and  fro 
Ran,  ran  from  various  cause  ;  by  many  sent 
From  various  cause,  upright  and  crooked  both. 
Some  sent  and  ran  for  love  of  souls,  sincere  ;       * 
And  more,  at  instance  of  a  holy  name. 
With  godly  zeal  much  vanity  was  mixed ; 
And  circumstance  of  gaudy  civil  pomp  ; 
And  speeches  buying  praise  for  praise  ;  and  lists, 
And  endless  scrolls,  surcharged  with  modest  names 
That  sought  the  public  eye  ;  and  stories,  told 
In  quackish  phrase,  that  hurt  their  credit,  even 
When  true  ;  combined  with  wise  and  prudent  means. 
Much  wheat,  much  chaff,  much  gold,  and  much  alloy ; 
But  God  wrought  with  the  whole,  wrought  most  with 

what 
To  man  seemed  weakest  means,  and  brought  result 
Of  good,  from  good  and  evil  both ;  and  breathed 
Into  the  withered  nations  breath  and  life, 
The  breath  and  life  of  liberty  and  truth, 
By  means  of  knowledge,  breathed  into  the  soul. 
10* 


114  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Then  was  the  evil  day  of  tyranny, 
Of  kingly  and  of  priestly  tyranny, 
That  bruised  the  nations  long.    As  yet,  no  state 
Beneath  the  heavens  had  tasted  freedom's  wine, 
Though  loud  of  freedom  was  the  talk  of  all. 
Some  groaned  more  deeply,  being  heavier  tasked ; 
Some  wrought  with  straw,  and  some  without ;  but  all 
Were  slaves,  or  meant  to  be  ;  for  rulers,  still. 
Had  been  of  equal  mind,  excepting  few, 
Cruel,  rapacious,  tyrannous,  and  vile. 
And  had  with  equal  shoulder  propped  the  Beast. 
As  yet,  the  Church,  the  holy  spouse  of  God, 
In  members  few,  had  wandered  in  her  weeds 
Of  mourning,  persecuted,  scorned  reproached. 
And  buffeted,  and  killed ;  in  members  few, 
Though  seeming  many  whiles  ;  then  fewest,  oft, 
When  seeming  most      She  still  had  hung  her  harp 
Upon  the  willow-tree,  and  sighed,  and  wept 
From  age  to  age.     Satan  began  the  war. 
And  all  his  angels,  and  all  wicked  men. 
Against  her  fought  by  wile,  or  fierce  attack, 
Six  thousand  years  ;  but  fought  in  vain.     She  stood. 
Troubled  on  every  side,  but  not  distressed  ; 
Weeping,  but  yet  despairing  not ;  cast  down. 
But  not  destroyed  :  for  she  upon  the  palms 
Of  God  was  graven,  and  precious  in  his  sight. 
As  apple  of  his  eye ;  and,  like  the  busli 
On  Midia's  mountain  seen,  burned  unconsumed  ; 
But  to  the  wilderness  retiring,  dv/elt, 
Debased  in  sackcloth,  and  forlorn  in  tears. 

As  yet  had  sung  the  scarlet-coloured  Whore, 
Who  on  the  breast  of  civil  power  reposed 
Her  harlot  head,  (the  Church  a  harlot  then, 
When  first  she  wedded  civil  power,)  and  drank 
The  blood  of  martyred  saints, — whose  priests  were  lords, 
Whose  coffers  held  the  gold  of  every  land. 


BOOK  V.  115 

Who  held  a  cup  of  all  pollutions  full, 

Who  with  a  double  horn  the  people  pushed, 

And  raised  her  forehead,  full  of  blasphemy. 

Above  the  holy  God,  usurping  ofl 

Jehovah's  incommunicable  names. 

The  nations  had  been  dark  ;  the  Jews  ha(^  pined, 

Scattered  without  a  name,  beneath  the  Curse  ; 

War  had  abounded,  Satan  raged,  unchained  ; 

And  earth  had  still  been  black  with  moral  gloom. 

But  now  the  cry  of  men  oppressed  went  up 
Before  the  Lord,  and  to  remembrance  came 
The  tears  of  all  his  saints,  their  tears,  and  groans. 
Wise  men  had  read  the  number  of  the  name  ; 
The  prophet-years  had  rolled  ;  the  time,  and  times, 
And  half  a  time,  were  now  fulfilled  complete  ; 
The  seven  fierce  vials  of  the  wrath  of  God, 
Poured  by  seven  angels  strong,  were  shed  abroad 
Upon  the  earth,  and  emptied  to  the  dregs; 
The  prophecy  for  confirmation  stood  ; 
And  all  was  ready  for  the  sword  of  God. 

The  righteous  saw,  and  fled  without  delay, 
Into  the  chambers  of  Omnipotence. 
The  wicked  mocked,  and  sought  for  erring  cause. 
To  satisfy  the  dismal  state  of  things ; 
The  public  credit  gone,  the  fear  in  time 
Of  peace,  the  starving  want  in  time  of  wealth, 
The  insurrection  muttering  in  the  streets, 
And  pallid  consternation  spreading  wide  ; 
And  leagues,  though  holy  termed,  first  ratified 
In  hell,  on  purpose  made  to  under-prop 
Iniquity,  and  crush  the  sacred  truth. 

Meantime,  a  mighty  angel  stood  in  heaven, 
And  cried  aloud,  "  Associate  now  yourselves, 
Ye  princes,  potentate;?,  and  men  of  war. 


116  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  mitred  heads,  associate  now  yourselves, 

And  be  dispersed ;  embattle,  and  be  broken. 

Gird  on  your  armour,  and  be  dashed  to  dust. 

Take  counsel,  and  it  shall  be  brought  to  naught. 

Speak,  and  it  shall  not  stand."    And  suddenly 

The  armies  of  the  saints,  imbannered,  stood 

On  Zion  hill ;  and  with  them  angels  stood 

In  squadron  bright,  and  chariots  of  fire  ; 

And  with  them  stood  the  Lord,  clad  like  a  man 

Of  war,  and  to  the  sound  of  thunder,  led 

The  battle  on.    Earth  shook,  the  kingdoms  shook, 

The  Beast,  the  lying  Seer,  dominions,  fell ; 

Thrones,  tyrants  fell,  confounded  in  the  dust, 

Scattered  and  driven  before  the  breath  of  God, 

As  chaff  of  summer  threshing  floor,  before 

The  wind.    Three  days  the  battle  wasting  slew. 

The  sword  was  full,  the  arrow  drunk  with  blood  ; 

And  to  the  supper  of  Almighty  God, 

Spread  in  Hamonah's  vale,  the  fowls  of  heaven. 

And  every  beast,  invited,  came,  and  fed 

Qn  captains'  flesh,  and  drank  the  blood  of  kings. 

And,  lo  !  another  angel  stood  in  heaven. 
Crying  aloud  with  mighty  voice,  ''  Fallen,  fallen, 
Is  Babylon  the  Great,  to  rise  no  more. 
Rejoice,  ye  prophets !  over  her  rejoice. 
Apostles  !  holy  men,  all  saints,  rejoice  ! 
And  glory  give  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb." 
And  all  the  armies  of  disburdened  earth. 
As  voice  of  many  waters,  and  as  voice 
Of  thunderings,  and  voice  of  multitudes, 
Answered,  Amen.    And  every  hill  and  rock. 
And  sea,  and  every  beast,  answered.  Amen. 
'  Europa  answered,  and  the  farthest  bounds 
Of  woody  Chili,  Asia's  fertile  coasts. 
And  Afric's  burning  wastes,  answered.  Amen. 
And  Heaven,  rejoicing,  answered  back,  Amen. 


BOOK  V.  117 

Not  so  the  wicked.    They  afar  were  heard 
Lamenting.    Kings,  who  drank  her  cup  of  whoredoms, 
Captains,  and  admirals,  and  mighty  men. 
Who  lived  deliciously ;  and  merchants,  rich 
With  merchandise  of  gold,  and  wine,  and  oil ; 
And  those  who  traded  in  the  souls  of  men. 
Known  by  their  gaudy  robes  of  priestly  pomp; — 
All  these  afar  off  stood,  crying,  Alas  ! 
Alas  !  and  wept,  and  gnashed  their  teeth,  and  groanea 
And,  with  the  owl  that  on  her  ruins  sat. 
Made  dolorous  concert  in  the  ear  of  Night. 
And  over  her  again  the  Heavens  rejoiced. 
And  Earth  returned  again  the  loud  response. 

Thrice  happy  days !  thrice  blessed  the  man  who  saw 
Their  dawn  !  The  Church  and  State,  that  long  had  held 
Unholy  intercourse,  were  now  divorced  ; 
Princes  were  righteous  men,  judges  upright ; 
And  first,  in  general,  now — for  in  the  worst 
Of  times  there  were  some  honest  seers — the  priest 
Sought  other  than  the  fleece  among  his  flocks. 
Best  paid  when  God  was  honoured  most ;  and  like 
A  cedar,  nourished  well,  Jerusalem  grew. 
And  towered  on  high,  and  spread,  and  flourished  fair ; 
And  underneath  her  boughs  the  nations  lodged. 
All  nations  lodged,  and  sung  the  song  of  peace. 
From  the  four  winds,  the  Jews,  eased  of  the  Curse, 
Returned,  and  dwelt  with  God  in  Jacob's  land, 
And  drank  of  Sharon  and  of  Carmel's  vine. 
Satan  was  bound,  though  bound,  not  banished  quite, 
But  lurked  about  the  timorous  skirts  of  things, 
111  lodged,  and  thinking  whiles  to  leave  the  earth, 
And  with  the  wicked, — for  some  wicked  were, — 
Held  midnight  meetings,  as  the  saints  were  wont. 
Fearful  of  day,  who  once  was  as  the  sun. 
And  worshipped  more.    The  bad,  but  few,  became 
A  taunt  and  hissing  now,  as  heretofore 
The  good  ;   and,  blushing,  hasted  out  of  sight. 


118  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

Disease  was  none  ;  the  voice  of  war  forgot ; 
The  sword,  a  share  ;  a  pruning-hook,  the  spear. 
Men  grew  and  multipUed  upon  the  earth, 
And  filled  the  city  and  the  waste  ;  and  Death 
Stood  waiting  for  the  lapse  of  tardy  Age, 
That  mocked  him  long.     Men  grew  and  multiplied, 
But  lacked  not  bread ;  for  God  his  promise  brought 
To  mind,  and  blessed  the  land  with  plenteous  rain, 
And  made  it  blessed  for  dews  and  precious  things 
Of  heaven,  and  blessings  of  the  deep  beneath, 
And  blessings  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and  fruits 
Of  day  and  night,  and  blessings  of  the  vale, 
And  precious  things  of  the  eternal  hills, 
And  all  the  fulness  of  perpetual  spring. 

f 
The  prison-house,  where  chained  felons  pined, 
Threw  open  his  ponderous  doors,  let  in  the  light 
Of  heaven,  and  grew  into  a  church,  where  God 
Was  worshipped.    None  were  ignorant,  selfish  none. 
Love  took  the  place  of  law  ;  where'er  you  met 
A  man,  you  met  a  friend,  sincere  and  true. 
Kind  looks  foretold  as  kind  a  heart  within  j 
Words  as  they  sounded,  meant ;  and  promises 
Were  made  to  be  performed.    Thrice  happy  days  ! 
Philosophy  was  sanctified,  and  saw 
Perfections  that  she  thought  a  fable,  long. 
Revenge  his  dagger  dropped,  and  kissed  the  hand 
Of  Mercy  ;  Anger  cleared  his  cloudy  brow, 
And  sat  with  Peace  ;  Envy  grew  red,  and  smiled 
On  Worth ;  Pride  stooped,  and  kissed  Humility  ; 
Lust  washed  his  miry  hands,  and,  wedded,  leaned 
On  chaste  Desire  ;  and  Falsehood  laid  aside 
His  many -folded  cloak,  and  bowed  to  Truth ; 
And  Treachery  up  from  his  mining  came, 
And  walked  above  the  ground  with  righteous  Faith ; 
And  Covetousness  unclenched  his  sinewy  hand, 
And  opened  his  door  to  Charity,  the  fair ; 
Hatred  was  lost  in  Love ;  and  Vanity, 


BOOK  V.  119 

With  a  good  conscience  pleased,  her  feathers  cropped ; 
Sloth  in  the  morning  rose  with  Industry ; 
To'Wisdom  Folly  turned ;  and  Fashion  turned 
Deception  off,  in  act  as  good  as  word. 
The  hand  that  held  a  whip  was  lifted  up 
To  bless  ;  slave  was  a  word  in  ancient  books 
Met^nly  ;  every  man  was  free ;  and  all 
Feared  God,  and  served  him  day  and  night  in  love . 

How  fair  the  daughter  of  Jerusalem  then ! 
How  gloriously  from  Zion  Hill  she  looked ! 
Clothed  with  the  sun,  and  in  her  train  the  moon, 
And  on  her  head  a  coronet  of  stars. 
And  girdling  round  her  waist,  with  heavenly  grace, 
The  bow  of  Mercy  bright ;  and  in  her  hand 
Immanuel's  cross,  her  sceptre  and  her  hope. 

Desire  of  every  land!  the  nations  came, 
And  worshipped  at  her  feet ;  all  nations  came, 
Flocking  like  doves  :  Columba's  painted  tribes, 
That  from  Magellan  to  the  Frozen  Bay, 
Beneath  the  Arctic,  dwelt ;  and  drank  the  tides 
Of  Amazona,  prince  of  earthly  streams  ; 
Or  slept  at  noon  beneath  the  giant  shade 
Of  Andes'  mount ;  or,  roving  northward,  heard 
Nigara  sing,  from  Erie's  billow  down 
To  Frontenac,  and  hunted  thence  the  fiir 
To  Labrador  :  and  Afric's  dusky  swarms. 
That  from  Morocco  to  Angola  dwelt, 
And  drank  the  Niger  from  his  native  wells. 
Or  roused  the  lion  in  Numidia's  groves ; 
The  tribes  that  sat  among  the  fabled  cliffs 
Of  Atlas,  looking  to  Atlanta's  wave  ; 
With  joy  and  melody,  arose  and  came. 
Zara  awoke  and  came,  and  Egypt  came, 
Casting  her  idol  gods  into  the  Nile. 
Black  Ethiopia,  that,  shadowless, 
Beneath  the  Torrid  burned,  arose  and  came. 


120  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Dauma  and  Medra,  and  the  pirate  tribes 

Of  Algeri,  with  incense  came,  and  pure 

Offerings,  annoying  now  the  seas  no  more. 

The  silken  tribes  of  Asia,  flocking,  came, 

Innumerous :  Ishmael's  wandering  race,  that  rode 

On  camels  o'er  the  spicy  tract  that  lay 

From  Persia  to  the  Red  Sea  coast ;  the  king 

Of  broad  Cathay,  with  numbers  infinite, 

Of  many  lettered  casts ;  and  all  the  tribes 

That  dwelt  from  Tigris  to  the  Ganges'  wave, 

And  worshipped  fire,  or  Brahma,  fabled  god ; 

Cashmeres,  Circassians,  Banyans,  tender  race  ! 

That  swept  the  insect  from  their  path,  and  lived 

On  herbs  and  fruits ;  and  those  who  peaceful  dwelt 

Along  the  shady  avenue  that  stretched 

From  Agra  to  Lahore ;  and  all  the  hosts 

That  owned  the  Crescent  late,  deluded  long  ; 

The  Tartar  hordes,  that  roamed  from  Oby's  bank, 

Ungoverned,  southward  to  the  wondrous  Wall. 

The  tribes  of  Europe  came  :  the  Greek,  redeemed 

From  Turkish  thrall,  the  Spaniard  came,  and  Gaul, 

And  Britain  with  her  ships,  and,  on  his  sledge. 

The  Laplander,  that  nightly  watched  the  bear 

Circling  the  Pole  ;  and  those  who  saw  the  flames 

Of  Hecla  burn  the  drifted  snow  ;  the  Russ, 

Long- whiskered,  and  equestrian  Pole  ;  and  those 

Who  drank  the  Rhine,  or  lost  the  evening  sun 

Behind  the  Alpine  towers  ;  and  she  that  sat 

By  Arno,  classic  stream ;  Venice,  or ;  Rome, 

Head  quarters  long  of  sin  !  first  guileless  now. 

And  meaning  as  she  seemed,  stretched  forth  her  hands 

And  all  the  Isles  of  ocean  rose  and  came. 

Whether  they  heard  the  roll  of  banished  tides, 

Antipodes  to  Albion's  wave,  or  watched 

The  Moon,  ascending  chalky  Teneriffe, 

And  with  Atlanta  holding  nightly  love. 

The  Sun;  the  Moon,  the  Constellations,  came  : 

Thrice  twelve  and  ten  that  watched  the  Antarctic  sleep, 


121 


Twice  six  that  near  the  Ecliptic  dwelt,  thrice  twelve 

And  one,  that  with  the  Streamers  danced,  and  saw 

The  Hyperborean  Ice  guarding  the  Pole. 

The  East,  the  West,  the  South,  and  snowy  North, 

Rejoicing  met,  and  worshipped  reverently 

Before  the  Lord,  in  Zion's  holy  hill ; 

And  all  the  places  round  about  were  blessed. 

The  animals,  as  once  in  Eden,  lived 
In  peace.     The  wolf  dwelt  with  the  lamb,  the  bear 
And  leopard  with  the  ox.     With  looks  of  love, 
The  tiger  and  the  scaly  crocodile 
Together  met,  at  Gambia's  palmy  wave. 
Perched  on  the  eagle's  wing,  the  bird  of  song, 
Singing,  arose,  and  visited  the  sun; 
And  with  the  falcon  sat  the  gentle  lark. 
The  little  child  leaped  from  his  mother's  arms, 
And  stroked  the  crested  snake,  and  rolled  unhurt 
Among  his  speckled  waves,  and  wished  him  home  ; 
And  sauntering  school-boys,  ^low  returning,  played 
At  eve  about  the  lion's  den,  and  wove, 
Into  his  shaggy  mane,  fantastic  flowers. 
To  meet  the  husbandman,  early  abroad, 
Hasted  the  deer,  and  waved  its  woody  head  , 
And  round  his  dewy  steps,  the  hare,  unscared. 
Sported  ;  and  toyed  familiar  with  his  dog. 
The  flocks  and  herds,  o'er  hill  and  valley  spread. 
Exulting,  cropped  the  ever-budding  herb. 
The  desert  blossomed,  and  the  barren  sung. 
Justice  and  Mercy,  Holiness  and  Love, 
Among  the  people  walked,  Messiah  reigned. 
And  Earth  kept  Jubilee  a  thousand  years. 
11 


THE 


COURSE  OF  TIME. 


BOOK  VI. 


Resume  thy  tone  of  wo,  immortal  Harp  ! 
.,The  song  of  mirth  is  past,  the  Jubilee 
^s  ended,  and  the  sun  begins  to  fade  ! 
Soon  passed,  for  Happiness  counts  not  the  hours 
To  her  a  thousand  years  seem  as  a  day ; 
A  day,  a  thousand  years  to  Misery. 
Satan  is  loose,  and  Violence  is  heard, 
And  Riot  in  the  street,  and  Revelry 
Intoxicate,  and  Murder,  and  Revenge. 
Put  on  your  armour  now,  ye  righteous  !  put 
The  helmet  of  salvation  on,  and  gird 
Your  loins  about  with  truth ;  add  righteousness, 
And  add  the  shield  of  faith,  and  take  the  sword 
Of  God — awake  and  watch  ! — The  day  is  near, 
Great  day  of  God  Almighty  and  the  Lamb ! 
The  harvest  of  the  earth  is  fully  ripe  ; 
Vengeance  begins  to  tread  the  great  wine-press         _^ 
Of  jfierceness  and  of  wrath  ;  and  Mercy  pleads, 
Mercy  that  pleaded  long,  she  pleads — no  more  ! 
Whence  comes  that  darkness  ?  whence  those  yells  of 

wo? 
What  thunderings  are  these  that  shake  the  world  ? 
Why  fall  the  lamps  from  heaven  as  blasted  figs  ? 
Why  tremble  righteous  men  ?  why  angels  pale  ? 


124  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

Why  is  all  fear  ?  what  has  become  of  hope  ? 

God  comes  !  God,  in  his  car  of  vengeance,  comes  ! — 

Hark  !  louder  on  the  blast,  come  hollow  shrieks 

Of  dissolution  !  in  the  fitful  scowl 

Of  night,  near  and  more  near,  angels  of  death 

Incessant  flap  their  deadly  wings,  and  roar 

Through  all  the  fevered  air  !  the  mountains  rock, 

The  moon  is  sick,  and  all  the  stars  of  heaven 

Burn  feebly  !  oft  and  sudden  gleams  the  fire, 

Revealing  awfully  the  brow  of  Wrath  ! 

The  Thunder,  long  and  loud,  utters  his  voice, 

Responsive  to  the  Ocean's  troubled  growl ! 

Night  comes,  last  night,  the  long,  dark,  dark,  dark  night, 

That  has  no  morn  beyond  it,  and  no  star  ! 

No  eye  of  man  hath  seen  a  night  like  this  ! 

Heaven's  trampled  Justice  girds  itself  for  fight ! 

Earth,  to  thy  knees,  and  cry  for  mercy  !  cry 

With  earnest  heart,  for  thou  art  growing  old 

And  hoary,  unrepeiited,  unforgiven  ! 

And  all  thy  glory  mourns  !     The  vintage  mourns  ! 

Bashan  and  Carmel,  mourn  and  weep  !  and  mourn, 

Thou  Lebanon  !  with  all  thy  cedars,  mourn. 

Sun !  glorying  in  thy  strength  from  age  to  age, 

So  long  observant  of  thy  hour,  put  on 

Thy  weeds  of  wo,  and  tell  the  Moon  to  weep  ; 

Utter  thy  grief  at  mid-day,  morn,  and  even ; 

Tell  all  the  nations,  tell  the  Clouds  that  sit 

About  the  portals  of  the  east  and  west, 

And  wanton  with  thy  golden  locks,  to  wait 

Thee  not  to-morrow,  for  no  morrow  comes  ! 

Tell  men  and  women,  tell  the  new-born  child, 

And  every  eye  that  sees,  to  come,  and  see 

Thee  set  behind  Eternity,  for  thou 

Shalt  go  to  bed  to-night,  and  ne'er  awake  ! 

Stars  !  walking  on  the  pavement  of  the  sky, 

Out-sentinels  of  heaven,  watching  the  earth, 

Cease  dancing  now ;  your  lamps  are  growing  dim, 

Your  graves  are  dug  among  the  dismal  clouds, 


BOOK  VI.  125 

And  angels  are  assembling  round  your  bier  ! 

Orion,  mourn  !  and  Mazzaroth,  and  thou, 

Arcturus  !  mourn,  with  all  thy  northern  sons, 

Daughters  of  Pleiades  !  that  nightly  shed 

Sweet  influence,  and  thou,  fairest  of  stars ! 

Eye  of  the  morning,  weep  !  and  weep  at  eve  ! 

Weep  setting,  now  to  rise  no  more,  "  and  flame 

On  forehead  of  the  dawn," — as  sung  the  bard, 

Great  bard  !  who  used  on  Earth  a  seraph's  lyre, 

Whose  numbers  wandered  through  eternity, 

And  gave  sweet  foretaste  of  the  heavenly  harps  ! 

Minstrel  of  sorrow  !  native  of  the  dark, 

Shrub-loving  Philomel,  that  wooed  the  Dews, 

At  midnight  from  their  starry  beds,  and,  charmed, 

Held  them  around  thy  song  till  dawn  awoke. 

Sad  bird  !  pour  through  the  gloom  thy  weeping  song, 

Pour  all  thy  dying  melody  of  grief, 

And  with  the  turtle  spread  the  wave  of  wo  ! 

Spare  not  thy  reed,  for  thou  shalt  sing  no  more  ! 

Ye  holy  bards ! — if  yet  a  holy  bard 
Remain, — what  chord  shall  serve  you  now !  what  harp  ' 
What  harp  shall  sing  the  dying  Sun  asleep, 
And  mourn  behind  the  funeral  of  the  Moon  ! 
What  harp  of  boundless,  deep,  exhaustless  wo, 
Shall  utter  forth  the  groanings  of  the  damned  ! 
And  sing  the  obsequies  of  wicked  souls  ! 
And  wail  their  plunge  in  the  eternal  fire  ! — 
Hold,  hold  your  hands  !  hold,  angels  ! — God  laments, 
And  draws  a  cloud  of  mourning  round  his  throne  • 
The  Organ  of  Eternity  is  mute ! 
And  there  is  silence  in  the  Heaven  of  Heavens ! 

Daughters  of  beauty  !  choice  of  beings  made  ! 
Much  praised,  much  blamed,  much  loved  ;  but  fairer  far 
Than  aught  beheld,  than  aught  imagined  else 
Fairest,  and  dearer  than  all  else  most  dear ; 
Light  of  the  darksome  wilderness  !  to  Time 
11* 


126  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

As  stars  to  night,  whose  eyes  were  spells  that  held 

The  passenger  forgetful  of  his  way, 

Whose  steps  were  majesty,  whose  words  were  song, 

Whose  smiles  were  hope,  whose  actions,  perfect  grace, 

Whose  love,  the  solace,  glory,  and  delight 

Of  man,  his  boast,  his  riches,  his  renown; 

When  found,  sufficient  bliss  !  when  lost,  despair  ' — 

Stars  of  creation  !  images  of  love '. 

Break  up  the  fountains  of  your  tears,  your  tears, 

More  eloquent  than  learned  tongue,  or  lyre 

Of  purest  note  !  your  sunny  raiment  stain, 

Put  dust  upon  your  heads,  lament  and  weep, 

And  utter  all  your  minstrelsy  of  wo  ! 

Go  to,  ye  wicked,  weep  and  howl ;  for  all 
That  God  hath  written  against  you  is  at  hand. 
The  cry  of  Violence  hath  reached  his  ear, 
Hell  is  prepared,  and  Justice  whets  his  sword. 
Weep  all  of  every  name  !  Begin  the  wo. 
Ye  woods,  and  tell  it  to  the  doleful  winds  j 
And  doleful  winds,  wail  to  the  howling  hills ; 
And  howling  hills,  mourn  to  the  dismal  vales , 
And  dismal  vales,  sigh  to  the  sorrowing  brooks , 
And  sorrowing  brooks,  weep  to  the  weeping  stream , 
And  weeping  stream,  awake  the  groaning  deep ; 
And  let  the  instrument  take  up  the  song. 
Responsive  to  the  voice,  harmonious  wo  ! 
Ye  Heavens,  great  arch-way  of  the  universe. 
Put  sackcloth  on ;  and  Ocean,  clothe  thyself 
In  garb  of  widowhood,  and  gather  all 
Thy  waves  into  a  groan,  and  utter  it. 
Long,  loud,  deep,  piercing,  dolorous,  immense 
The  occasion  asks  it ! — Nature  dies,  and  God 
And  angels  come  to  lay  her  in  the  grave  ! 

But  we  have  overleaped  our  theme  j  behind, 
A  little  season  waits  a  verse  or  two, 
The  years  that  followed  the  millennial  rest. 


BOOK  VI.  127 

Bad  years  they  were ;  and  first,  as  signal  sure, 

That  at  the  core  rehgion  was  diseased, 

The  sons  of  Levi  strove  again  for  place, 

And  eminence,  and  names  of  swelling  pomp  ; 

Setting  their  feet  upon  the  people's  neck, 

And  slumbering  in  the  lap  of  civil  power, 

Of  civil  power  again  tyrannical : 

And  second  sign,  sure  sign,  whenever  seen, 

That  holiness  was  dying  in  a  land. 

The  Sabbath  was  profaned  and  set  at  naught ; 

The  honest  seer,  who  spoke  the  truth  of  God 

Plainly,  was  left  with  empty  walls  ;  and  round 

The  frothy  orator,  who  busked  his  tales  . 

In  quackish  pomp  of  noisy  words,  the  ear 

Tickling,  but  leaving  still  the  heart  unprobed, 

The  judgment  uninformed, — numbers  immense 

Flocked,  gaping  wide,  with  passions  high  inflamed  ; 

And  on  the  way  returning,  heated,  home, 

Of  eloquence,  and  not  of  truth,  conversed — 

Mean  eloquence  that  wanted  sacred  truth. 

Two  principles  from  the  beginning  strove 
In  human  nature,  still  dividing  man, — 
Sloth  and  activity  ;  the  lust  of  praise, 
And  indolence  that  rather  wished  to  sleep. 
And  not  unfrequently  in  the  same  mind 
They  dubious  contest  held  ;  one  gaining  now, 
And  now  the  other  crowned,  and  both  again 
Keeping  the  field,  with  equal  combat  fought. 
Much  different  was  their  voice.     Ambition  called 
To  action,  Sloth  invited  to  repose. 
Ambition  early  rose,  and,  being  up, 
Toiled  ardently,  and  late  retired  to  rest ; 
Sloth  lay  till  mid-day,  turning  on  his  couch, 
Like  ponderous  door  upon  its  weary  hinge, 
And,  having  rolled  him  out  with  much  ado. 
And  many  a  dismal  sigh,  and  vain  attempt. 
He  sauntered  out,  accoutred  carelessly, — 


128  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

With  half-oped,  misty,  unobservant  eye, 
Somniferous,  that  weighed  the  object  down 
On  which  its  burden  fell, — an  hour  or  two, 
Then  with  a  groan  retired  to  rest  again. 
The  one,  whatever  deed  had  been  achieved, 
Thought  it  too  little,  and  too  small  the  praise  ; 
The  other  tried  to  think, — for  thinking  so 
Answered  his  purpose  best, — that  what  of  great 
Mankind  could  do  had  been  already  done  ; 
And  therefore  laid  him  calmly  down  to  sleep. 

Different  in  mode,  destructive  both  alike. 
Destructive  always  indolence  ;  and  love 
Of  fame  destructive  always  too,  if  less 
Than  praise  of  God  it  sought,  content  with  less : 
Even  then  not  current,  if  it  sought  his  praise 
From  other  motive  than  resistless  love  ; 
Though  base,  main-spring  of  action  in  the  world  ; 
And,  under  name  of  vanity  and  pride. 
Was  greatly  practised  on  by  cunning  men. 
It  opened  the  niggard's  purse,  clothed  nakedness, 
Gave  beggars  food,  and  threw  the  Pharisee 
Upon  his  knees,  and  kept  him  long  in  act 
Of  prayer  ;  it  spread  the  lace  upon  the  fop, 
His  language  trimmed,  and  planned  his  curious  gait, 
It  stuck  the  feather  on  the  gay  coquette. 
And  on  her  finger  laid  the  heavy  load 
Of  jewellery  ;  it  did — what  did  it  not  ? 
The  gospel  preached,  the  gospel  paid,  and  sent 
The  gospel ;  conquered  nations,  cities  built, 
Measured  the  furrow  of  the  field  with  nice 
Directed  share,  shaped  bulls,  and  cows,  and  rams, 
And  threw  the  ponderous  stone  ;  and  pitiful. 
Indeed,  and  much  against  the  grain,  it  dragged 
The  stagnant,  dull,  predestinated  fool. 
Through  learning's  halls,  and  made  him  labour  much 
Abortively,  though  sometimes  not  unpraised 
lie  left  the  sage's  chair,  and  home  returned 


BOOK  TI.  129 

Making  his  simple  mother  think  that  she 

Had  borne  a  man.    In  schools,  designed  to  root 

Sin  up,  and  plant  the  seeds  of  holiness 

In  youthful  minds,  it  held  a  signal  place. 

The  little  infant  man,  by  nature  proud, 

Was  taught  the  Scriptures  by  the  love  of  praise, 

And  grew  religious  as  he  grew  in  fame. 

And  thus  the  principle,  which  out  of  heaven 

The  devil  threw,  and  threw  him  down  to  hell, 

And  keeps  him  there,  was  made  an  instrument 

To  moralize  and  sanctify  mankind, 

And  in  their  hearts  beget  humility  ; 

With  what  success  it  needs  not  now  to  say. 

Destructive  both  we  said,  activity 
And  sloth  :  behold  the  last  exemplified, 
In  literary  man.     Not  all  at  once, 
He  yielded  to  the  soothing  voice  of  sleep ; 
But,  having  seen  a  bough  of  laurel  wave, 
He  effort  made  to  climb ;  and  friends,  and  even 
Himself,  talked  of  his  greatness,  as  at  hand, 
And,  prophesying,  drew  his  future  life. 
Vain  prophecy !  his  fancy,  taught  by  sloth, 
Saw,  in  the  very  threshold  of  pursuit, 
A  thousand  obstacles  ;  he  halted  first. 
And  while  he  halted,  saw  his  burning  hopes 
Grow  dim  and  dimmer  still ;  ambition's  self, 
The  advocate  of  loudest  tongue,  decayed;  , 

His  purposes,  made  daily,  daily  broken. 
Like  plant  uprooted  oft,  and  set  again. 
More  sickly  grew,  and  daily  wavered  more ; 
Till  at  the  last,  decision,  quite  worn  out. 
Decision,  fulcrum  of  the  mental  powers. 
Resigned  the  blasted  soul  to  staggering  chance ; 
Sleep  gathered  fast,  and  weighed  him  downward  still ; 
His  eye  fell  heavy  from  the  mount  of  fame  ; 
His  young  resolves  to  benefit  the  world 
Perished  and  were  forgotten ;  he  shut  his  ear 


130  THE  COURSE    OF  TIME. 

Against  the  painful  news  of  rising  worth  ; 

And  drank  with  desperate  thirst  the  poppy's  juice , 

A  deep  and  mortal  slumber  settled  down 

Upon  his  weary  faculties  oppressed ; 

He  rolled  from  side  to  side,  and  rolled  again; 

And  snored,  and  groaned,  and  withered,  and  expired, 

And  rotted  on  the  spot,  leaving  no  name. 

The  hero  best  example  gives  of  toil 
Unsanctified.     One  word  his  history  writes. 
^'  He  was  a  murderer  above  the  laws, 
And  greatly  praised  for  doing  murderous  deeds." 
And  now  he  grew,  and  reached  his  perfect  growth ; 
And  also  now  the  sluggard  soundest  slept, 
And  by  him  lay  the  uninterred  corpse. 

Of  every  order,  sin  and  wickedness, 
Deliberate,  cool,  malicious  villany, 
This  age,  attained  maturity,  unknown 
Before  ;  and  seemed  in  travail  to  bring  forth 
Some  last,  enormous,  monstrous  deed  of  guilt, 
Original,  unprecedented  guilt, 
That  might  obliterate  the  memory 
Of  what  had  hitherto  been  done  most  vile. 
Inventive  men  were  paid,  at  public  cost, 
To  plan  new  modes  of  sin  ;  the  holy  Word 
Of  God  was  burned,  with  acclamations  loud  ; 
New  tortures  were  invented  for  the  good ; — 
For  still  some  good  remained,  as  whiles  through  sky 
Of  thickest  clouds,  a  wandering  star  appeared  ; — 
New  oaths  of  blasphemy  were  framed  and  sworn ; 
And  men  in  reputation  grew,  as  grew 
The  stature  of  their  crimes.     Faith  was  not  found. 
Truth  was  not  found,  truth  always  scarce,  so  scarce 
That  half  the  misery  which  groaned  on  earth, 
In  ordinary  times,  was  progeny 
Of  disappointment,  daily  coming  forth 
From  broken  promises,  that  might  have  ne'er 


131 


Been  made,  or,  being  made,  might  have  been  kept ; 
Justice  and  mercy,  too,  were  rare,  obscured 
In  cottage  garb :  before  the  palace  door, 
The  beggar  rotted,  starving  in  his  rags  ; 
And  on  the  threshold  of  luxurious  domes. 
The  orphan  child  laid  down  his  head,  and  died; 
Nor  unamusing  was  his  piteous  cry- 
To  women,  who  had  now  laid  tenderness 
Aside,  best  pleased  with  sights  of  cruelty  ; 
Flocking,  when  fouler  lusts  would  give  them  time, 
To  horrid  spectacles  of  blood,  where  men, 
Or  guiltless  beasts,  that  seemed  to  look  to  heaven, 
With  eye  imploring  vengeance  on  the  earth, 
Were  tortured  for  the  merriment  of  kings. 
The  advocate  for  him  who  offered  most 
Pleaded  ;  the  scribe,  according  to  the  hire. 
Worded  the  lie,  adding,  for  every  piece, 
An  oath  of  confirmation ;  judges  raised 
One  hand  to  intimate  the  sentence,  death. 
Imprisonment,  or  fine,  or  loss  of  goods, 
And  in  the  other  held  a  lusty  bribe, 
Which  they  had  taken  to  give  the  sentence  wrong  ; 
So  managing  the  scale  of  justice  still. 
That  he  was  wanting  found  who  poorest  seemed. 

But  laymen,  most  renowned  for  devilish  deeds. 
Laboured  at  distance  still  behind  the  priest ; 
He  shore  his  sheep,  and,  having  packed  the  wool. 
Sent  them  unguarded  to  the  hill  of  wolves ; 
And  to  the  bowl  deliberately  sat  down, 
And  with  his  mistress  mocked  at  sacred  things. 

The  theatre  was,  from  the  very  first. 
The  favourite  haunt  of  Sin,  tbough  honest  men. 
Some  very  honest,  wise,  and  worthy  men, 
Maintained  it  might  be  turned  to  good  account ; 
And  so  perhaps  it  might,  but  never  was. 
From  first  to  last  it  was  an  evil  place  : 


132  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  now  such  things  were  acted  there,  as  made 
The  devils  blush ;  and  from  the  neighbourhood, 
Angels  and  holy  men,  trembling,  retired  : 
And  what  with  dreadful  aggravation  crowned 
This  dreary  time,  was  sin  against  the  light. 
All  men  knew  God,  and,  knowing,  disobeyed  ', 
And  gloried  to  insult  him  to  his  face. 

Another  feature  only  we  shall  mark. 
It  was  withal  a  highly  polished  age, 
And  scrupulous  in  ceremonious  rite. 
When  stranger  stranger  met  upon  the  way, 
First,  each  to  each  bowed  most  respectfully, 
And  large  profession  made  of  humble  service, 
And  then  the  stronger  took  the  other's  purse , 
And  he  that  stabbed  his  neighbour  to  the  heart,         / 
Stabbed  him  politely,  and  returned  the  blade 
Reeking  into  its  sheath  with  graceful  air. 

Meantime  the  earth  gave  symptoms  of  her  end  , 
And  all  the  scenery  above  proclaimed. 
That  the  great  last  catastrophe  was  near. 
The  Sun  at  rising  staggered  and  fell  back, 
As  one  too  early  up,  after  a  night 
Of  late  debauch;  then  rose,  and  shone  again, 
Brighter  than  wont ',  and  sickened  again,  and  paused 
In  zenith  altitude,  as  one  fatigued ; 
And  shed  a  feeble  twilight  ray  at  noon. 
Rousing  the  wolf  before  his  time  to  chase 
The  shepherd  and  his  sheep,  that  sought  for  light. 
And  darkness  found,  astonished,  terrified  ; 
Then,  out  of  course,  rolled  furious  down  the  west, 
As  chariot  reined  by  awkward  charioteer ; 
And,  waiting  at  the  gate,  he  on  the  earth 
Gazed,  as  he  thought  he  ne'er  might  see't  again. 
The  bow  of  mercy,  heretofore  so  fair, 
Ribbed  with  the  native  hues  of  heavenly  love, 
Disastrous  colours  showed,  unseen  till  now ; 


BOOK  VI.  133^ 

Changing  upon  the  watery  gulf,  from  pale 

To  fiery  red,  and  back  again  to  pale  ; 

And  o'er  it  hovered  wings  of  wrath.     The  Moon 

Swaggered  in  midst  of  heaven,  grew  black,  and  dark. 

Unclouded,  uneclipsed.     The  Stars  fell  down, 

Tumbling  from  off  their  towers  like  drunken  men, 

Or  seemed  to  fall ;  and  glimmered  now,  and  now 

Sprang  out  in  sudden  blaze  and  dimmed  again, 

As  lamp  of  foolish  virgin  lacking  oil. 

The  heavens,  this  moment,  looked  serene ;  the  next, 

Glowed  Uke  an  oven  with  God's  displeasure  hot. 

Nor  less,  below,  was  intimation  given, 
Of  some  disaster  great  and  ultimate. 
The  tree  that  bloomed,  or  hung  with  clustering  fruit, 
Untouched  by  visible  calamity 
Of  frost  or  tempest,  died  and  came  again. 
The  flower  and  herb  fell  down  as  sick  ;  then  rose 
And  fell  again.     The  fowls  of  every  hue. 
Crowding  together,  sailed  on  weary  wing  ; 
And,  hovering,  oft  they  seemed  about  to  light ; 
Then  soared,  as  if  they  thought  the  earth  unsafe. 
The  cattle  looked  with  meaning  face  on  man. 
Dogs  howled,  and  seemed  to  see  more  than  their  mas- 
ters. 
And  there  were  sights  that  none  had  seen  before  ; 
And  hollow,  strange,  unprecedented  sounds, 
And  earnest  whisperings  ran  along  the  hills 
At  dead  of  night ;  and  long,  deep,  endless  sighs, 
Came  from  the  dreary  vale  ;  and  from  the  waste 
Came  horrid  shrieks,  and  fierce  unearthly  groans, 
The  wail  of  evil  spirits,  that  now  felt 
The  hour  of  utter  vengeance  near  at  hand. 
The  winds  from  every  quarter  blew  at  once, 
With  desperate  violence,  and,  whirling,  took 
The  traveller  up,  and  threw  him  down  again, 
At  distance  from  his  path,  confounded,  pale  ; 
And  shapes,  strange  shapes !  in  winding  sheets  were  seen, 
12 


134  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Gliding  through  night,  and  singing  funeral  songs, 

And  imitating  sad,  sepulchral  rites ; 

And  voices  talked  among  the  clouds,  and  still 

The  words  that  men  could  catch  were  spoken  of  them, 

And  seemed  to  be  the  words  of  wonder  great, 

And  expectation  of  some  vast  event. 

Earth  shook,  and  swam,  and  reeled,  and  opened  her 

jaws. 
By  Earthquake  tossed,  and  tumbled  to  and  fro ; 
And,  louder  than  the  ear  of  man  had  heard, 
The  Thunder  bellowed,  and  the  Ocean  groaned. 

The  race  of  men,  perplexed,  but  not  reformed, 
Flocking  together,  stood  in  earnest  crowds, 
Conversing  of  the  awful  state  of  things. 
Some  curious  explanations  gave,  unlearned ; 
Some  tried  affectedly  to  laugh,  and  some 
Gazed  stupidly  ;  but  all  were  sad  and  pale, 
And  wished  the  comment  of  the  wise.    Nor  less 
These  prodigies,  occurring  night  and  day. 
Perplexed  philosophy.     The  magi  tried, — 
Magi,  a  name  not  seldom  given  to  fools, 
In  the  vocabulary  of  earthly  speech, — 
They  tried  to  trace  them  still  to  second  cause  , 
But  scarcely  satisfied  themselves  ;  though  round 
Their  deep  deliberations,  crowding,  came, 
And,  wondering  at  their  wisdom,  went  away. 
Much  quieted  and  very  much  deceived. 
The  people,  always  glad  to  be  deceived. 

These  warnings  passed,  they,  unregarded,  passed  , 
And  all  in  wonted  order  calmly  moved. 
The  pulse  of  Nature  regularly  beat. 
And  on  her  cheek  the  bloom  of  perfect  health 
Again  appeared.    Deceitful  pulse  !  and  bloom 
Deceitful !  and  deceitful  calm  !     The  Earth 
Was  old,  and  worn  within ;  but,  like  the  man. 
Who  noticed  not  his  raid-day  strength  decline, 


BOOK  VI.  135 

Sliding  so  gently  round  the  curvature 

Of  life,  from  youth  to  age, — she  knew  it  not. 

The  calm  was  like  the  calm,  which  ofl  the  man, 

Dying,  experienced  before  his  death  ; 

The  bloom  was  but  a  hectic  flush,  before 

The  eternal  paleness.    But  all  these  were  taken, 

By  this  last  race  of  men,  for  tokens  of  good ; 

And  blustering  public  News  aloud  proclaimed — 

News  always  gabbling  ere  they  well  had  thought — 

Prosperity,  and  joy,  arid  peace  ;  and  mocked 

The  man  who,  kneeling,  prayed,  and  trembled  still ; 

And  all  in  earnest  to  their  sins  returned. 

It  was  not  so  in  heaven.    The  elders  round 
The  Throne  conversed  about  the  state  of  man, 
Conjecturing, — for  none  of  certain  knew, — 
That  Time  was  at  an  end.     They  gazed  intense 
Upon  the  Dial's  face,  which  yonder  stands 
In  gold,  before  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
Jehovah,  and  computes  time,  seasons,  years, 
And  destinies,  and  slowly  numbers  o'er 
The  mighty  cycles  of  eternity  ; 
By  God  alone  completely  understood, 
But  read  by  all,  revealing  much  to  all. 
And  now,  to  saints  of  eldest  skill,  the  ray. 
Which  on  the  gnomon  fell  of  Time,  seemed  sent 
From  level  west,  and  hasting  quickly  down. 
The  holy  Virtues,  watching,  saw,  besides, 
Great  preparation  going  on  in  heaven. 
Betokening  great  event,  greater  than  aught 
That  first-created  seraphim  had  seen. 
The  faithful  messengers,  who  have  for  wing 
The  lightning,  waiting,  day  and  night,  on  God : 
Before  his  face,  beyond  their  usual  speed, 
On  pinion  of  celestial  light  were  seen, 
Coming  and  going,  and  their  road  was  still 
From  heaven  to  earth,  and  back  again  to  heaven 
The  angel  of  Mercy,  bent  before  the  Throne, 


I8d  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

By  earnest  pleading,  seemed  tq  hold  the  hand 
Of  Vengeance  back,  and  win  a  moment  more 
Of  late  repentance  for  some  sinful  world 
In  jeopardy  :  and,  now,  the  hill  of  God, 
The  mountain  of  his  majesty,  rolled  flames 
Of  fire,  now  smiled  with  momentary  love, 
And  now  again  with  fiery  fierceness  burned ; 
And  from  behind  the  darkness  of  his  Throne, 
Through  which  created  vision  never  saw. 
The  living  Thunders,  in  their  native  caves, 
Muttered  the  terrors  of  Omnipotence, 
And  ready  seemed,  impatient  to  fulfil 
Some  errand  of  exterminating  wrath. 

Meanwhile  the  Earth  increased  in  wickedness, 
And  hasted  daily  to  fill  up  her  cup. 
Satan  raged  loose.  Sin  had  her  will,  and  Death 
Enough.     Blood  trode  upon  the  heels  of  Blood, 
Revenge,  in  desperate  mood,  at  midnight  met 
Revenge,  War  brayed  to  War,  Deceit  deceived 
Deceit,  Lie  cheated  Lie,  and  Treachery 
Mined  under  Treachery,  and  Perjury 
Swore  back  on  Perjury,  and  Blasphemy 
Arose  with  hideous  Blasphemy,  and  Curse 
Loud  answered  Curse  j  and  drunkard,  stumbling,  fell 
O'er  drunkard  fallen ;  and  husband  husband  met, 
Returning  each  from  other's  bed  defiled ; 
Thief  stole  from  thief,  and  robber  on  the  way 
Knocked  robber  down,  and  Lewdness,  Violence, 
And  Hate,  met  Lewdness,  Violence,  and  Hate. 
Oh,  Earth !  thy  hour  was  come  !  the  last  elect 
Was  born,  complete  the  number  of  the  good, 
And  the  last  sand  fell  from  the  glass  of  Time. 
The  cup  of  guilt  was  full  up  to  the  brim ; 
And  Mercy,  weary  with  beseeching,  had 
Retired  behind  the  sword  of  Justice,  red 
With  ultimate  and  unrepenting  wrath ; 
But  man  knew  not :  he  o'er  his  bowl  laughed  loud, 


137. 


And,  prophesying,  said,  "  To-morrow  shall 

As  this  day  be,  and  more  abundant  still !" 

As  thou  shalt  hear — But,  hark  !  the  trumpet  sounds, 

And  calls  to  evening  song ;  for,  though  with  hymn 

Eternal,  course  succeeding  course,  extol 

In  presence  of  the  incarnate,  holy  God, 

And  celebrate  his  never-ending  praise, — 

Duly  at  morn  and  night,  the  multitudes 

Of  men  redeemed,  and  angels,  all  the  hosts 

Of  glory,  join  in  universal  song, 

And  pour  celestial  harmony,  from  harps 

Above  all  number,  eloquent  and  sweet, 

Above  all  thought  of  melody  conceived. 

And  now  behold  the  fair  inhabitants. 

Delightful  sight !  from  numerous  business  turn. 

And  round  and  round  through  all  the  extent  of  bliss 

Towards  the  temple  of  Jehovah  bow, 

And  worship  reverently  before  his  face  ! 

Pursuits  are  various  here,  suiting  all  tastes. 
Though  holy  all,  and  glorifying  God. 
Observe  yon  band  pursue  the  sylvan  stream : 
Mounting  among  the  cliffs,  they  pull  the  flower, 
Springing  as  soon  as  pulled,  and,  marvelling,  pry 
Into  its  veins,  and  circulating  blood, 
And  wondrous  mimicry  of  higher  life  ; 
Admire  its  colours,  fragrance,  gentle  shape; 
And  thence  admire  the  God  who  made  it  so^ 
So  simple,  complex,  and  so  beautiful. 

Behold  yon  other  band,  in  airy  robes 
Of  bliss.    They  weave  the  sacred  bower  of  rose 
And  myrtle  shade,  and  shadowy  verdant  bay, 
And  laurel,  towering  high  ;  and  round  their  song. 
The  pink  and  lily  bring,  and  amaranth. 
Narcissus  sweet,  and  jessamine  ;  and  bring 
The  clustering  vine,  stooping  with  flower  and  fruit, 
The  peach  and  orange,  and  the  sparkling  stream, 
12^ 


138  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Warbling  with  nectar  to  their  lips  unasked; 
And  talk  the  while  of  everlasting  love. 

On  ycnder  hill,  behold  another  band, 
Of  piercing,  steady,  intellectual  eye. 
And  spacious  forehead  of  sublimest  thought. 
They  reason  deep  of  present,  future,  past  j 
And  trace  effect  to  cause  ',  and  meditate 
On  the  eternal  laws  of  God,  which  bind 
Circumference  to  centre  ;  and  survey, 
With  optic  tubes,  that  fetch  remotest  stars 
Near  them,  the  systems  circling  round  immense 
Innumerous.     See  how, — as  he,  the  sage. 
Among  the  most  renowned  in  days  of  Time, 
Renowned  for  large,  capacious,  holy  soul, 
Demonstrates  clearly  motion,  gravity. 
Attraction,  and  repulsion,  still  opposed  ', 
And  dips  into  the  deep,  original. 
Unknown,  mysterious  elements  of  things, — 
See  how  the  face  of  every  auditor 
Expands  with  admiration  of  the  skill. 
Omnipotence,  and  boundless  love  of  God  ! 

These  other,  sitting  near  the  tree  of  life, 
In  robes  of  linen  flowing  white  and  clean, 
Of  holiest  aspect,  of  divinest  soul. 
Angels  and  men, — into  the  glory  look 
Of  the  Redeeming  Love^  and  turn  the  leaves 
Of  man's  redemption  o'er,  the  secret  leaves. 
Which  none  on  earth  were  found  worthy  to  open 
And,  as  they  read  the  mysteries  divine. 
The  endless  mysteries  of  salvation,  wrought 
By  God's  incarnate  Son,  they  humbler  bow 
Before  the  Lamb,  and  glow  with  warmer  love. 

These  other,  there  relaxed  beneath  the  shade 
Of  yon  embowering  palms,  with  friendship  smile, 
And  talk  of  ancient  days,  and  young  pursuits. 


130 


Of  dangers  passed,  of  godly  triumphs  won ; 
And  sing  the  legends  of  their  native  land, 
Less  pleasing  far  than  this  their  Father's  house. 

Behold  that  other  band,  half  lifted  up 
Between  the  hill  and  dale,  reclined  beneath 
The  shadow  of  impending  rocks,  'mong  streams, 
And  thundering  waterfalls,  and  waving  boughs  ; 
That  band  of  countenance  sublime  and  sweet, 
Whose  eye,  with  piercing,  intellectual  ray, 
Now  beams  severe,  or  now  bewildered  seems, 
Left  rolling  wild,  or  fixed  in  idle  gaze. 
While  Fancy  and  the  Soul  are  far  from  home  ; 
These  hold  the  pencil,  art  divine  !  and  throw 
Before  the  eye  remembered  scenes  of  love  ; 
Each  picturing  to  each  the  hills,  and  skies, 
And  treasured  stories  of  the  world  he  left ; 
Or,  gazing  on  the  scenery  of  heaven, 
They  dip  their  hand  in  colour's  native  well, 
And,  on  the  everlasting  canvass,  dash 
Figures  of  glory,  imagery  divine. 
With  grace  and  grandeur  in  perfection  knit. 

But,  whatsoe'er  these  spirits  blessed  pursue, 
Where'er  they  go,  whatever  sights  they  see 
Of  glory  and  bliss  through  all  the  tracts  of  heaven 
The  centre,  still,  the  figure  eminent. 
Whither  they  ever  turn,  on  whom  all  eyes 
Repose  with  infinite  delight,  is  God, 
And  his  incarnate  Son,  the  Lamb  once  slain 
On  Calvary,  to  ransom  ruined  men. 

None  idle  here.    Look  where  thou  wilt,  they  all 
Are  active,  all  engaged  in  meet  pursuit ; 
Not  happy  else.    Hence  is  it  that  the  song 
Of  heaven  is  ever  new  j  for  daily  thus, 
And  nigntly,  new  discoveries  are  made 
Of  God's  unbounded  wisdom,  power,  and  love, 


140  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Which  give  the  understanding  larger  room, 
And  swell  the  hymn  with  ever-growing  praise. 

Behold  they  cease  !  and  every  face  to  God 
Turns  ;  and  we  pause  from  high  poetic  theme, 
Not  worthy  least  of  being  sung  in  heaven ; 
And  on  unvailed  Godhead  look  from  this, 
Our  oft-frequented  hill.     He  takes  the  harp, 
Nor  needs  to  seek  befitting  phrase  :  unsought, 
Numbers  harmonious  roll  along  the  lyre  ; 
As  river  in  its  native  bed,  they  flow 
Spontaneous,  flowing  with  the  tide  of  thought. 
He  takes  the  harp — a  bard  of  Judah  leads, 
This  night,  the  boundless  song,  the  bard  that  once, 
When  Israel's  king  was  sad  and  sick  to  death, 
A  message  brought  of  fifteen  added  years. 
Before  the  Throne  he  stands  sublime,  in  robes 
Of  glory  J  and  now  his  fingers  wake  the  chords 
To  praise,  which  we  and  all  in  heaven  repeat. 

Harps  of  Eternity  !  begin  the  song. 
Redeemed  and  angel  harps  !  begin  to  God, 
Begin  the  anthem  ever  sweet  and  new. 
While  I  extol  Him,  holy,  just,  and  good. 
Life,  beauty,  light,  intelligence,  and  love 
Eternal,  uncreated,  infinite  ! 
Unsearchable  Jehovah  !  God  of  truth. 
Maker,  upholder,  governor  of  all ! 
Thyself  unmade,  ungoverned,  unupheld  ' 
Omnipotent,  unchangeable.  Great  God  ! 
Exhaustless  fulness  !  giving  unimpaired ! 
Bounding  immensity,  unspread,  unbound  ! 
Highest  and  best !  beginning,  middle,  end  ! 
All-seeing  Eye  !  all-seeing,  and  unseen  ! 
Hearing,  unheard  !  all-knowing,  and  unknown ! 
Above  all  praise  !  above  all  height  of  thought ! 
Proprietor  of  immortality ! 
Glory  ineffable  !  bliss  undcrived  ! 


BOOK  VI.  141 

Of  old  thou  builtst  thy  throne  on  righteousness, 

Before  the  morning  Stars  their  song  began, 

Or  silence  heard  the  voice  of  praise.     Thou  laidst 

Eternity's  foundation  stone,  and  sawst 

Life  and  existence  out  of  Thee  begin. 

Mysterious  more,  the  more  displayed,  where  still 

Upon  thy  glorious  Throne  thou  sitst  alone, 

Hast  sao  alone,  and  shalt  for  ever  sit 

Alone,  Invisible,  Immortal  One  ! 

Behind  essential  brightness  unbeheld. 

Incomprehensible  !  what  weight  shall  weigh. 

What  measure  measure  Thee  !     What  know  we  more 

Of  Thee,  what  need  to  know,  than  Thou  hast  taught, 

And  bidst  us  still  repeat,  at  morn  and  even  ? — 

God  !  Everlasting  Father  !  Holy  One  ! 

Our  God,  our  Father,  our  Eternal  All ! 

Source  whence  we  came,  and  whither  we  return  ; 

Who  made  our  spirits,  who  our  bodies  made, 

Who  made  the  heaven,  who  made  the  flowery  land, 

Who  made  all  made,  who  orders,  governs  all, 

Who  walks  upon  the  wind,  who  holds  the  wave 

In  hollow  of  thy  hand,  whom  thunders  wait, 

Whom  tempests  serve,  whom  flaming  fires  obey. 

Who  guides  the  circuit  of  the  endless  years, 

And  sitst  on  high,  and  makest  creation's  top 

Thy  footstool,  and  benoldst,  below  Thee,  all — 

All  naught,  all  less  than  naught,  and  vanity. 

Like  transient  dust  that  hovers  on  the  scale, 

Ten  thousand  worlds  are  scattered  in  thy  breath. 

Thou  sitst  on  high,  and  measurest  destinies. 

And  days,  and  months,  and  wide-revolving  years ; 

And  dost  according  to  thy  holy  will ; 

And  none  can  stay  thy  hand,  and  none  withhold 

Thy  glory ;  for  in  judgment.  Thou,  as  well 

As  mercy,  art  exalted,  day  and  night. 

Past,  present,  future,  magnify  thy  name. 

Thy  works  all  praise  Thee,  all  thy  angels  praise, 

Thy  saints  adore,  and  on  thy  altars  burn 


142  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

The  fragrant  incense  of  perpetual  love. 

They  praise  Thee  now,  their  hearts,  their  voices  praise, 

And  swell  the  rapture  of  the  glorious  song. 

Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high  !  shout,  angels,  shout ! 

And  loudest,  ye  redeemed  !  glory  to  God, 

And  to  the  Lamb  who  bought  us  with  his  blood, 

From  every  kindred,  nation,  people,  tongue ; 

And  washed,  and  sanctified,  and  saved  our  souls  ; 

And  gave  us  robes  of  linen  pure,  and  crowns 

Of  life,  and  made  us  kings  and  priests  to  God. 

Shout  back  to  ancient  Time  !     Sing  loud,  and  wave 

Your  palms  of  triumph !  sing.  Where  is  thy  sting, 

O  Death  !  where  is  thy  victory,  O  Grave  ! 

Thanks  be  to  God,  eternal  thanks,  who  gave 

Us  victory  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord. 

Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high  !  shout,  angels,  shout ' 

And  loudest,  ye  redeemed  !  glory  to  God, 

And  to  the  Lamb,  all  glory  and  all  praise. 

All  glory  and  all  praise,  at  morn  and  even, 

That  come  and  go  eternally,  and  find 

Us  happy  still,  and  Thee  for  ever  blessed  ! 

Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb.    Amen. 

For  ever,  and  for  evermore.    Amen. 

And  those  who  stood  upon  the  sea  of  glass, 
And  those  who  stood  upon  the  battlements 
And  lofty  towers  of  New  Jerusalem, 
And  those  who  circling  stood,  bowing  afar, 
Exalted  on  the  everlasting  hills. 
Thousands  of  thousands,  thousands  infinite. 
With  voice  of  boundless  love,  answered.  Amen. 
And  through  Eternity  near,  and  remote. 
The  worlds,  adoring,  echoed  back.  Amen. 
And  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
The  One  Eternal,  smiled  superior  bliss ! 
And  every  eye,  and  every  face  in  heaven, 
Reflecting  and  reflected,  beamed  with  love. 


BOOK   VI.  14^ 

Nor  did  he  not,  the  Virtue  new  arrived, 
From  Godhead  gain  an  individual  smile, 
Of  high  acceptance,  and  of  welcome  high. 
And  confirmation  evermore  in  good. 
Meantime  the  landscape  glowed  with  holy  joy. 
Zephyr,  with  wing  dipped  from  the  well  of  life, 
Sporting  through  Paradise,  shed  living  dews  ; 
The  flowers,  the  spicy  shrubs,  the  lawns,  refreshed, 
Breathed  their  selectest  balm,  breathed  odours,  such 
As  angels  love  ;  and  all  the  trees  of  heaven, 
The  cedar,  pine,  and  everlasting  oak, 
Rejoicing  on  the  mountains,  clapped  their  hands. 


THE 


COURSE   OF  TIME 


BOOK  VII. 


As  one  who  meditates  at  evening  tide, 

Wandering  alone  by  voiceless  solitudes, 

And  flies  in  fancy,  far  beyond  the  bounds 

Of  visible  and  vulgar  things,  and  things 

Discovered  hitherto,  pursuing  tracts 

As  yet  untravelled  and  unknown,  through  vast 

Of  new  and  sweet  imaginings ;  if  chance 

Some  airy  harp,  waked  by  the  gentle  sprites 

Of  twilight,  or  light  touch  of  sylvan  maid, 

In  soft  succession  fall  upon  his  ear, 

And  fill  the  desert  with  its  heavenly  tones  ; 

He  hstens  intense,  and  pleased  exceedingly, 

And  wishes  it  may  never  stop ;  yet  when 

It  stops,  grieves  not ;  but  to  his  former  thoughts 

With  fondest  haste  returns  :  so  did  the  Seer, 

So  did  his  audience,  after  worship  passed, 

And  praise  in  heaven,  return  to  sing,  to  hear 

Of  man,  not  worthy  less  the  sacred  lyre, 

Or  the  attentive  ear  ;  and  thus  the  bard, 

Not  unbesought,  again  resumed  his  song. 

In  customed  glory  bright,  that  mom,  the  Sun 
Rose,  visiting  the  earth  with  light,  and  heat. 
And  joy  ;  and  seemed  as  full  of  youth  and  strong 


146  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

To  mount  the  steep  of  heaven,  as  when  the  Stars 
Of  morning  sung  to  his  first  dawn,  and  night 
Fled  from  his  face  ',  the  spacious  sky  received 
Him,  blushing  as  a  bride,  when  on  her  looked 
The  bridegroom  ;  and,  spread  out  beneath  his  eye, 
Earth  smiled.     Up  to  his  warm  embrace,  the  Dews, 
That  all  night  long  had  wept  his  absence,  flew  ; 
The  herbs  and  flowers  their  fragrant  stores  unlocked, 
And  gave  the  wanton  breeze  that,  newly  woke. 
Revelled  in  sweets,  and  from  its  wings  shook  health, 
A  thousand  grateful  smells;  the  joyous  woods 
Dried  in  his  beams  their  locks,  wet  with  the  drops 
Of  night ;  and  all  the  sons  of  music  sung 
Their  matin  song — from  arboured  bower,  the  thrush, 
Concerting  with  the  lark  that  hymned  on  high. 
On  the  green  hill  the  flocks,  and  in  the  vale 
The  herds,  rejoiced  ;  and,  light  of  heart,  the  hind 
Eyed  amorously  the  milk-maid  as  she  passed, 
Not  heedless,  though  she  looked  another  way. 

No  sign  was  there  of  change.     All  nature  moved 
In  wonted  harmony.     Men,  as  they  met, 
In  morning  salutation,  praised  the  day, 
And  talked  of  common  things.     The  husbandman 
Prepared  the  soil,  and  silver-tongued  Hope 
Promised  another  harvest.     In  the  streets, 
Each  wishing  to  make  profit  of  his  neighbour, 
Merchants,  assembling,  spoke  of  trying  times, 
Of  bankruptcies,  and  markets  glutted  full , 
Or,  crowding  to  the  beach,  where,  to  their  ear. 
The  oath  of  foreign  accent,  and  the  noise 
Uncouth  of  trade's  rough  sons,  made  music  sweet, 
Elate  with  certain  gain, — beheld  the  bark, 
Expected  long,  enriched  with  other  climes, 
Into  the  harbour  safely  steer  ;  or  saw. 
Parting  with  many  a  weeping  farewell  sad. 
And  blessing  uttered  rude,  and  sacred  pledge, 
The  rich  laden  carack,  bound  to  distant  shore, 


147 


And  hopefiiUy  talked  of  her  coming  back, 

With  richer  fraught ;  or  sitting  at  the  desk, 

In  calculation  deep  and  intricate 

Of  loss  and  profit  balancing,  relieved, 

At  intervals,  the  irksome  task,  with  thought 

Of  future  ease,  retired  in  villa  snug. 

With  subtle  look,  amid  his  parchments,  sat 
The  lawyer,  weaving  his  sophistries  for  court 
To  meet  at  mid-day.     On  his  weary  couch, 
Fat  Luxury,  sick  of  the  night's  debauch, 
Lay  groaning,  fretful  at  the  obtrusive  beam, 
That  through  his  lattice  peeped  derisively. 
The  restless  miser  had  begun  again 
To  count  his  heaps.     Before  her  toilet  stood 
The  fair,  and,  as  with  guileful  skill  she  decked. 
Her  lovehness,  thought  of  the  coming  ball, 
New  lovers,  or  the  sweeter  nuptial  night. 
And  evil  men,  of  desperate,  lawless  life, 
By  oath  of  deep  damnation  leagued  to  ill 
Remorselessly,  fled  from  the  face  of  day, 
Against  the  innocent  their  counsel  held, 
Plotting  unpardonable  deeds  of  blood, 
And  villanies  of  fearful  magnitude. 
Despots,  secured  behind  a  thousand  bolts , 
The  workmanship  of  fear,  forged  chains  for  man. 
Senates  were  meeting,  statesmen  loudly  talked 
Of  national  resources,  war  and  peace. 
And  sagely  balanced  empires  soon  to  end  ; 
And  faction's  jaded  minions,  by  the  page 
Paid  for  abuse  and  oft-repeated  lies. 
In  daily  prints,  the  thorough-fare  of  news, 
For  party  schemes  made  interest,  under  cloalt 
Of  liberty,  and  right,  and  public  weal. 
In  holy  conclave,  bishops  spoke  of  tithes, 
And  of  the  awful  wickedness  of  men. 
Intoxicate  with  sceptres,  diadems. 
And  univereal  rule,  and  panting  hard 


148  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

For  fame,  heroes  were  leading  on  the  brave 

To  battle.     Men,  in  science  deeply  read, 

And  academic  theory,  foretold 

Improvements  vast ;  and  learned  sceptics  proved 

That  earth  should  with  eternity  endure — 

Concluding  madly,  that  there  was  no  God.  • 

No  sign  of  change  appeared :  to  every  man 
That  day  seemed  as  the  past.     From  noontide  path 
The  sun  looked  gloriously  on  earth,  and  all 
her  scenes  of  giddy  folly  smiled  secure. 
When  suddenly,  alas,  fair  Earth  !  the  sun 
Was  wrapped  in  darkness,  and  his  beams  returned 
Up  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  over  all 
The  earth  came  night,  moonless  and  starless  night. 
Nature  stood  still.     The  seas  and  rivers  stood. 
And  all  the  winds,  and  every  living  thing. 
The  cataract,  that,  like  a  giant  wroth. 
Rushed  down  impetuously,  as  seized,  at  once, 
By  sudden  frost,  with  all  his  hoary  locks, 
Stood  still ;  and  beasts  of  every  kind  stood  still. 
A  deep  and  dreadful  silence  reigned  alone  ! 
Hope  died  in  every  breast,  and  on  all  men 
Came  fear  and  trembling.     None  to  his  neighbour  spoko 
Husband  thought  not  of  wife,  nor  of  her  child 
The  mother,  nor  friend  of  friend,  nor  foe  of  foe. 
In  horrible  suspense  all  mortals  stood ; 
And,  as  they  stood  and  listened,  chariots  were  heard, 
Rolling  in  heaven.     Revealed  in  flaming  fire. 
The  angel  of  God  appeared  in  stature  vast, 
Blazing,  and,  lifting  up  his  hand  on  high. 
By  Him  that  lives  for  ever,  swore,  that  Time 
Should  be  no  more.     Throughout,  creation  heard 
And  sighed ;  all  rivers,  lakes,  and  seas,  and  woods, 
Desponding  waste,  and  cultivated  vale. 
Wild  cave,  and  ancient  hill,  and  every  rock. 
Sighed.    Earth,  arrested  in  her  wonted  path, 
As  ox  struck  by  the  lifted  axe,  when  naught 


BOOK  VII.  149 

Was  feared,  in  all  her  entrails  deeply  groaned. 

A  universal  crash  was  heard,  as  if 

The  ribs  of  Nature  broke,  and  all  her  dark 

Foundations  failed ;  and  deadly  paleness  sat 

On  every  face  of  man,  and  every  heart 

Grew  chill,  and  every  knee  his  fellow  smote. 

None  spoke,  none  stirred,  none  wept;  for  horror  held 

All  motionless,  and  fettered  every  tongue. 

Again,  o'er  all  the  nations  silence  fell : 

And,  in  the  heavens,  robed  in  excessive  light, 

That  drove  the  thick  of  darkness  far  aside, 

And  walked  with  penetration  keen,  through  all 

The  abodes  of  men,  another  angel  stood, 

And  blew  the  trump  of  God  :  Awake,  ye  dead, 

Be  changed,  ye  living,  and  put  on  the  garb 

Of  immortality.     Awake,  arise  ! — 

The  God  of  judgment  comes  !     This  said  the  voice, 

And  Silence,  from  eternity  that  slept 

Beyond  the  sphere  of  the  creating  Word, 

And  all  the  noise  of  Time,  awakened,  heard. 

Heaven  heard,  and  earth,  and  farthest  hell,  through  all 

Her  regions  of  despair ;  the  ear  of  Death 

Heard,  and  the  sleep  that  for  so  long  a  night 

Pressed  on  his  leaden  eyelids,  fled ;  and  all 

The  dead  awoke,  and  all  the  living  changed. 

Old  men,  that  on  their  staff,  bending,  had  leaned. 
Crazy  and  frail,  or  sat,  benumbed  with  age, 
In  weary  listlessness,  ripe  for  the  grave. 
Felt  through  their  sluggish  veins  and  withered  limbs. 
New  vigour  flow ;  the  wrinkled  face  grew  smooth ; 
Upon  the  head,  that  Time  had  razored  bare. 
Rose  bushy  locks  ;  and  as  his  son  in  prime 
Of  strength  and  youth,  the  aged  father  stood. 
Changing  herself,  the  mother  saw  her  son 
Grow  up,  and  suddenly  put  on  the  form 
Of  manhood  ;  and  the  wretch,  that  begging  sat, 
13* 


1'50  THE    COURSE    OF   TIMB. 

Limbless,  deformed,  at  corner  of  the  way, 

Unmindful  of  his  crutch,  in  joint  and  limb, 

Arose  complete  j  and  he,  that  on  the  bed 

Of  mortal  sickness,  worn  with  sore  distress, 

Lay  breathing  forth  his  soul  to  death,  felt  now 

The  tide  of  life  and  vigour  rushing  back ; 

And,  looking  up,  beheld  his  weeping  wife, 

And  daughter  fond,  that  o'er  him,  bending,  stooped 

To  close  his  eyes.     The  frantic  madman,  too, 

In  whose  confused  brain  reason  had  lost 

Her  way,  long  driven  at  random  to  and  fro, 

Grew  sober,  and  his  manacles  fell  off. 

The  newly-sheeted  corpse  arose,  and  stared 

On  those  who  dressed  it ;  and  the  coffined  dead, 

That  men  were  bearing  to  the  tomb,  awoke. 

And  mmgled  with  their  friends  ;  and  armies,  which 

The  trump  surprised,  met  in  the  furious  shock 

Of  battle,  saw  the  bleeding  ranks,  new  fallen, 

Rise  up  at  once,  and  to  their  ghastly  cheeks 

Return  the  stream  of  life  in  healthy  flow  ; 

And  as  the  anatomist,  with  all  his  band 

Of  rude  disciples,  o'er  the  subject  hung. 

And  impolitely  hewed  his  way,  through  bones 

And  muscles  of  the  sacred  human  form, 

Exposing  barbarously  to  wanton  gaze. 

The  mysteries  of  nature,  joint  embraced 

His  kindred  joint,  the  wounded  flesh  grew  up, 

And  suddenly  the  injured  man  awoke, 

Among  their  hands,  and  stood  arrayed  complete 

In  immortality — forgiving  scarce 

The  insult  offered  to  his  clay  in  death. 

That  was  the  hour,  long  wished  for  by  the  good, 
Of  universal  Jubilee  to  all 

The  sons  of  bondage  :  from  the  oppressor's  hand 
The  scourge  of  violence  fell,  and  from  his  back, 
Healed  of  its  stripes,  the  burden  of  the  slave. 


BOOK  VII.  161 

The  youth  of  great  religious  soul,  who  sat 
Retired  in  voluntary  loneliness, 
In  reverie  extravagant  now  wrapped. 
Or  poring  now  on  book  of  ancient  date, 
With  filial  awe,  and  dipping  ofl  his  pen 
To  write  immortal  things  ;  to  pleasure  deaf, 
And  joys  of  common  men,  working  his  way 
With  mighty  energy,  not  uninspired. 
Through  all  the  mines  of  thought;  reckless  of  paui, 
And  weariness,  and  wasted  health,  the  scoff 
Of  Pride,  or  growl  of  Envy's  hellish  brood ; 
While  Fancy,  voyaged  far  beyond  the  bounds 
Of  years  revealed,  heard  many  a  future  age. 
With  commendation  loud,  repeat  his  name, — 
False  prophetess  !  the  day  of  change  was  come, — 
Behind  the  shadow  of  eternity. 
He  saw  his  visions  set  of  earthly  fame. 
For  ever  set ;  nor  sighed,  while  through  his  veins, 
In  lighter  current,  ran  immortal  life ; 
His  form  renewed  to  undecaying  health ; 
To  undecaying  health,  his  soul,  erewhile 
Not  tuned  amiss  to  God's  eternal  praise. 

All  men  in  field  and  city,  by  the  way, 
On  land  or  sea,  lolling  in  gorgeous  hall. 
Or  plying  at  the  oar ;  crawling  in  rags 
Obscure,  or  dazzling  in  embroidered  gold, 
Alone,  in  companies,  at  home,  abroad  ; 
In  wanton  merriment  surprised  and  taken, 
Or  kneeling  reverently  in  act  of  prayer ; 
Or  cursing  recklessly,  or  uttering  lies ; 
Or  lapping  greedily,  from  slander's  cup, 
The  blood  of  reputation  ;  or  between 
Friendships  and  brotherhoods  devising  strife  ; 
Or  plotting  to  defile  a  neighbour's  bed ; 
In  duel  met  with  dagger  of  revenge  ; 
Or  casting,  on  the  widow's  heritage. 
The  eye  of  covetousness  ;  or,  witli  full  hand, 


162  THE    COURSE    OF  TIME. 

On  mercy's  noiseless  errands,  unobserved, 
Administering  ;  or  meditating  fraud 
And  deeds  of  horrid  barbarous  intent ; 
In  full  pursuit  of  unexperienced  hope, 
Fluttering  along  the  flowery  path  of  youth; 
Or  steeped  in  disappointment's  bitterness, 
The  fevered  cup  that  guilt  must  ever  drink, 
When  parched  and  fainting  on  the  road  of  ill ; 
Beggar  and  king,  the  clown  and  haughty  lord ; 
The  venerable  sage,  and  empty  fop ; 
The  ancient  matron,  and  the  rosy  bride  ; 
The  virgin  chaste,  and  shrivelled  harlot  vile  ; 
The  savage  fierce,  and  man  of  science,  mild  ; 
The  good  and  evil,  in  a  moment,  all 
Were  changed,  corruptible  to  incorrupt, 
And  mortal  to  immortal,  ne'er  to  change. 

And  now,  descending  from  the  bowers  of  heaven. 
Soft  airs  o'er  all  the  earth,  spreading,  were  heard, 
And  Hallelujahs  sweet,  the  harmony 
Of  righteous  souls  that  came  to  repossess 
Their  long-neglected  bodies  ;  and  anon 
Upon  the  ear  fell  horribly  the  sound 
Of  cursing,  and  the  yells  of  damned  despair, 
Uttered  by  felon  spirits,  that  the  trump 
Had  summoned  from  the  burning  glooms  of  hell 
To  put  their  bodies  on,  reserved  for  wo. 

Now,  starting  up  among  the  living  changed, 
Appeared  innumerous  the  risen  dead. 
Each  particle  of  dust  was  claimed  :  the  turf. 
For  ages  trod  beneath  the  careless  foot 
Of  men,  rose,  organized  in  human  form  ; 
The  monumental  stones  were  rolled  away  ; 
The  doors  of  death  were  opened ;  and  in  the  dark 
And  loathsome  vault,  and  silent  charnel  house, 
Moving,  were  heard  the  mouldered  bones  that  sought 
Their  proper  place.    Instinctive,  every  soul 


1*53 


Flew  to  its  clayey  part :  from  grass-grown  mould, 

The  nameless  spirit  took  its  ashes  up, 

Reanimate  ;  and,  merging  from  beneath 

The  flattered  marble,  undistinguished  rose 

The  great,  nor  heeded  once  the  lavish  rhyme, 

And  costly  pomp  of  sculptured  garnish  vain. 

The  Memphian  mummy,  that  from  age  to  age, 

Descending,  bought  and  sold  a  thousand  times. 

In  hall  of  curious  antiquary  stowed, 

Wrapped  in  mysterious  weeds,  the  wondrous  theme 

Of  many  an  erring  tale,  shook  off  its  rags ; 

And  the  brown  son  of  Egypt  stood  beside 

The  European,  his  last  purchaser. 

In  vale  remote,  the  hermit  rose,  surprised 

At  crowds  that  rose  around  him,  where  he  thought 

His  slumbers  had  been  single ;  and  the  bard, 

Who  fondly  covenanted  with  his  friend, 

To  lay  his  bones  beneath  the  sighing  bough 

Of  some  old  lonely  tree,  rising,  was  pressed 

By  multitudes  that  claimed  their  proper  dust 

From  the  same  spot ;  and  he,  that,  richly  hearsed. 

With  gloomy  garniture  of  purchased  wo. 

Embalmed,  in  princely  sepulchre  was  laid. 

Apart  from  vulgar  men,  built  nicely  round 

And  round  by  the  proud  heir,  who  blushed  to  think 

His  father's  lordly  clay  should  ever  mix 

With  peasant  dust, — saw  by  his  side  awake 

The  clown  that  long  had  slumbered  in  his  arms. 

The  family  tomb,  to  whose  devouring  mouth 
Descended  sire  and  son,  age  after  age. 
In  long,  unbroken,  hereditary  line, 
Poured  forth,  at  once,  the  ancient  father  rude. 
And  all  his  offspring  of  a  thousand  years. 
Refreshed  from  sweet  repose,  awoke  the  man 
Of  charitable  life — awoke  and  sung  : 
And  from  his  prison  house,  slowly  and  sad. 
As  if  unsatisfied  with  holding  near 


154  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Communion  with  the  earth,  the  miser  drew 

His  carcass  forth,  and  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  howled, 

Unsolaced  by  his  gold  and  silver  then. 

From  simple  stone  in  lonely  wilderness, 

That  hoary  lay,  o'er-lettered  by  the  hand 

Of  oft-frequenting  pilgrim,  who  had  taught 

The  willow  tree  to  weep,  at  morn  and  even, 

Over  the  sacred  spot, — the  martyr  saint. 

To  song  of  seraph  harp,  triumphant,  rose, 

Well  pleased  that  he  had  suffered  to  the  death . 

*'  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 

As  sung  the  bard  by  Nature's  hand  anointed, 

In  whose  capacious  giant  numbers  rolled 

The  passions  of  old  Time,  fell  lumbering  down 

All  cities  fell,  and  every  work  of  man, 

And  gave  their  portion  forth  of  human  dust, 

Touched  by  the  mortal  finger  of  decay. 

Tree,  herb,  and  flower,  and  every  fowl  of  heaven, 

And  fish,  and  animal,  the  wild  and  tame, 

Forthwith  dissolving,  crumbled  into  dust. 

Alaa!  ye  sons  of  strength,  ye  ancient  oaks. 
Ye  holy  pines,  ye  elms,  and  cedars  tall, 
Like  towers  of  God,  far  seen  on  Carmel  mount, 
Or  Lebanon,  that  waved  your  boughs  on  high, 
And  laughed  at  all  the  winds, — your  hour  was  come ! 
Ye  laurels,  ever  green,  and  bays,  that  wont 
To  wreath  the  patriot  and  the  poet's  brow  j 
Ye  myrtle  bowers,  and  groves  of  sacred  shade. 
Where  Music  ever  sung,  and  Zephyr  fanned 
His  airy  wing,  wet  with  the  dews  of  life, 
And  Spring  for  ever  smiled,  the  fragrant  haunt 
Of  Love,  and  Health,  and  ever-dancing  Mirth, — 
Alas  !  how  suddenly  your  verdure  died, 
And  ceased  your  minstrelsy,  to  sing  no  more ! 
Ye  flowers  of  beauty,  penciled  by  the  hand 
Of  God,  who  annually  renewed  your  birth, 
To  gem  the  virgin  robes  of  Nature  chaste, 


155 


Ye  smiling-featured  daughters  of  the  Sun ! 
Fairer  than  queenly  bride,  by  Jordan's  stream 
Leading  your  gentle  lives,  retired,  unseen ; 
Or  on  the  sainted  cliffs  on  Zion  hill 
Wandering,  and  holding  with  the  heavenly  dews, 
In  holy  revelry,  your  nightly  loves, 
Watched  by  the  stars,  and  offering,  every  morn, 
Your  incense  grateful  both  to  God  and  man  ; — 
Ye  lovely  gentle  things,  alas  !  no  spring 
Shall  ever  wake  you  now  !  ye  withered  all, 
All  in  a  moment  drooped,  and  on  your  roots 
The  grasp  of  everlasting  winter  seized  ! 
Children  of  song,  ye  birds  that  dwelt  in  air, 
And  stole  your  notes  from  angels'  lyres,  and  first 
In  levee  of  the  morn,  with  eulogy 
Ascending,  hailed  the  advent  of  the  dawn ; 
#r,  roosted  on  the  pensive  evening  bough, 
In  melancholy  numbers,  sung  the  day 
To  rest ; — your  little  wings,  failing,  dissolved, 
In  middle  air,  and  on  your  harmony 
Perpetual  silence  fell !     Nor  did  his  wing, 
That  sailed  in  track  of  gods  sublime,  and  fanned 
The  sun,  avail  the  eagle  then  ;  quick  smitten. 
His  plumage  withered  in  meridian  height, 
And,  in  the  valley,  sunk  the  lordly  bird, 
A  clod  of  clay.     Before  the  ploughman  fell 
His  steers,  and  in  midway  the  furrow  lefl. 
The  shepherd  saw  his  flocks  around  him  turn 
To  dust.     Beneath  his  rider  fell  the  steed 
To  ruins  :  and  the  lion  in  his  den 
Grew  cold  and  stiff,  or  in  the  furious  chase. 
With  timid  fawn,  that  scarcely  missed  his  paws. 
On  earth  no  living  thing  was  seen  but  men, 
New-changed,  or  rising  from  the  opening  tomb. 

Athens,  and  Rome,  and  Babylon,  and  Tyre, 
And  she  that  sat  on  Thames,  queen  of  the  seas, 
Cities  once  famed  on  earth,  convulsed  through  all 


I^ 


THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 


Their  mighty  ruins,  threw  their  millions  forth. 

Palmyra's  dead,  where  Desolation  sat, 

From  age  to  age,  well  pleased  in  solitude, 

And  silence,  save  when  traveller's  foot,  or  owl 

Of  night,  or  fragment  mouldering  down  to  dust, 

Broke  faintly  on  his  desert  ear, — awoke. 

And  Salem,  holy  city,  where  the  Prince 

Of  Life,  by  death,  a  second  life  secured 

To  man,  and  with  him,  from  the  grave,  redeemed, 

A  chosen  number  brought,  to  retinue 

His  great  ascent  on  high,  and  give  sure  pledge, 

That  death  was  foiled, — her  generations,  now. 

Gave  up,  of  kings  and  priests,  and  Pharisees  : 

Nor  even  the  Sadducee,  who  fondly  said, 

No  morn  of  resurrection  e'er  should  come, 

Could  sit  the  summons ;  to  his  ear  did  reach 

The  trumpet's  voice,  and,  ill  prepared  for  what 

He  oft  had  proved  should  never  be,  he  rose 

Reluctantly,  and  on  his  face  began 

To  burn  eternal  shame.     The  cities,  too, 

Of  old  ensepulchred  beneath  the  flood, 

Or  deeply  slumbering  under  mountains  huge, 

That  Earthquake,  servant  of  the  wrath  of  God, 

Had  on  their  wicked  population  thrown ; 

And  marts  of  busy  trade,  long  ploughed  and  sown, 

By  history  unrecorded,  or  the  song 

Of  bard,  yet  not  forgotten  their  wickedness. 

In  heaven ; — poured  forth  their  ancient  multitudes, 

That  vainly  wished  their  sleep  had  never  broke. 

From  battle-fields,  where  men  by  millions  met 

To  murder  each  his  fellow,  and  make  sport 

To  kings  and  heroes,  things  long  since  forgot, 

Innumerous  armies  rose,  unbannered  all, 

Unpanoplied,  unpraised  ;  nor  found  a  prince. 

Or  general,  then,  to  answer  for  their  crimes. 

The  hero's  slaves,  and  all  the  6carlet  troops 

Of  antichrist,  and  all  that  fought  for  rule, — 

Many  high-sounding  names,  familiar  once 


BOOK  VII.  tftfl 

On  earth,  and  praised  exceedingly,  but  now 

Familiar  most  in  hell,  their  dungeon  fit, 

Where  they  may  war  eternally  with  God's 

Almighty  thunderbolts,  and  win  them  pangs 

Of  keener  wo, — saw,  as  they  sprung  to  life, 

The  widow  and  the  orphan  ready  stand, 

And  helpless  virgin,  ravished  in  their  sport, 

To  plead  against  them  at  the  coming  Doom. 

The  Roman  legions,  boasting  once,  how  loud  ! 

Of  liberty,  and  fighting  bravely  o'er 

The  torrid  and  the  frigid  zone,  the  sands 

Of  burning  Egypt,  and  the  frozen  hills 

Of  snowy  Albion,  to  make  mankind 

Their  thralls,  untaught  that  he  who  made  or  kept 

A  slave  could  ne'er  himself  be  truly  free, — 

That  morning,  gathered  up  their  dust,  which  lay 

Wide-scattered  over  half  the  globe  ;  nor  saw 

Their  eagled  banners  then.     Sennacherib's  hosts, 

Kmbattled  once  against  the  sons  of  God, 

With  insult  bold,  quick  as  the  noise  of  mirth 

And  revelry,  sunk  in  their  drunken  camp, 

When  death's  dark  angel,  at  the  dead  of  night. 

Their  vitals  touched,  and  made  each  pulse  stand  still, — • 

Awoke  in  sorrow  ;  and  the  multitudes 

Of  Gog,  and  all  the  fated  crew  that  warred 

Against  the  chosen  saints,  in  the  last  days, 

At  Armageddon,  when  the  Lord  came  down, 

Mustering  his  host  on  Israel's  holy  hills. 

And,  from  the  treasures  of  his  snow  and  hail, 

Rained  terror,  and  confusion  rained,  and  death, 

And  gave  to  all  the  beasts,  and  fowls  of  heaven. 

Of  captains'  flesh,  and  blood  of  men  of  war, 

A  feast  of  many  days, — revived,  and,  doomed 

To  second  death,  stood  in  Hamonah's  vale. 

Nor  yet  did  all  that  fell  in  battle  rise, 
That  day,  to  wailing.     Here  and  there  were  seen 
The  patriot  bands  that  from  his  guilty  throne 
14 


168  THE    COURSE    OP  TIME. 

The  despot  tore,  unshackled  nations,  made 
The  prince  respect  the  people's  laws,  drove  back 
The  wave  of  proud  invasion,  and  rebuked 
The  frantic  fury  of  the  multitude. 
Rebelled,  and  fought  and  fell  for  liberty- 
Right  understood,  true  heroes  in  the  speech 
Of  heaven,  where  words  express  the  thoughts  of  him 
Who  speaks  ;  not  undistinguished  these,  though  few, 
That  morn,  arose,  with  joy  and  melody. 

All  woke — the  north  and  south  gave  up  their  dead. 
The  caravan,  that  in  mid-journey  sunk, 
With  all  its  merchandise,  expected  long. 
And  long  forgot,  ingulfed  beneath  the  tide 
Of  death,  that  the  wild  Spirit  of  the  winds 
Swept,  in  his  wrath,  along  the  wilderness. 
In  the  wide  desert, — woke,  and  saw  all  calm 
Around,  and  populous  with  risen  men  : 
Nor  of  his  relics  thought  the  pilgrim  then, 
Nor  merchant  of  his  silks  and  spiceries. 

And  he,  far  voyaging  from  home  and  friends. 
Too  curious,  with  a  mortal  eye  to  peep 
Into  the  secrets  of  the  Pole,  forbid 
By  nature,  whom  fierce  Winter  seized,  and  froze 
To  death,  and  wrapped  in  winding  sheet  of  ice, 
And  sung  the  requiem  of  his  shivering  ghost, 
With  the  loud  organ  of  his  mighty  winds. 
And  on  his  memory  threw  the  snow  of  ages, — 
Felt  the  long-absent  warmth  of  life  return. 
And  shook  the  frozen  mountain  from  his  bed. 

All  rose,  of  every  age,  of  every  clime. 
Adam  and  Eve,  the  great  progenitors 
Of  all  mankind,  fair  as  they  seemed,  that  morn. 
When  first  they  met  in  Paradise,  unfallen, 
Uncursed, — from  ancient  slumber  broke,  where  once 
Euphrates  rolled  his  stream  ;  and  by  them  stood, 


I 


BOOK  VII.  159 

In  stature  equal,  and  in  soul  as  large, 
Their  last  posterity,  though  poets  sung, 
And  sages  proved  them  far  degenerate. 

Blessed  sight !  not  unobserved  by  angels,  nor 
Unpraised, — that  day,  'mong  men  of  every  tribe 
And  hue,  from  those  who  drank  of  Tenglio's  stream, 
To  those  who  nightly  saw  the  Hermit  Cross, 
In  utmost  south  retired,— rising,  were  seen 
The  fair  and  ruddy  sons  of  Albion's  land, 
How  glad  ! — not  those  who  travelled  far  and  sailed. 
To  purchase  human  flesh,  or  wreath  the  yoke 
Of  vassalage  on  savage  liberty. 
Or  suck  large  fortune  from  the  sweat  of  slaves  j 
Or,  with  refined  knavery,  to  cheat, 
Politely  villanous,  untutored  men 
Out  of  their  property ;  or  gather  shells, 
Intaglios  rude,  old  pottery,  and  store 
Of  mutilated  gods  of  stone,  and  scraps 
Of  barbarous  epitaphs  defaced,  to  be 
Among  the  learned  the  theme  of  warm  debate, 
And  infinite  conjecture,  sagely  wrong  ! — 
But  those,  denied  to  self,  to  earthly  fame 
Denied,  and  earthly  wealth  ;  who  kindred  left. 
And  home,  and  ease,  and  all  the  cultured  joys, 
Conveniences,  and  delicate  delights. 
Of  ripe  society  ;  in  the  great  cause 
Of  man's  salvation,  greatly  valorous, — 
The  warriors  of  Messiah,  messengers 
Of  peace,  and  light,  and  life,  whose  eye,  unsealed, 
Saw  up  the  path  of  immortality, 
Far  into  bliss,  saw  men,  immortal  men. 
Wide  wandering  from  the  way ;  eclipsed  in  night, 
Dark,  moonless,  moral  night ;  living  like  beasts, 
Like  beasts  descending  to  the  grave,  untaught 
Of  life  to  come,  unsanctified,  unsaved  j 
Who,  strong,  though  seeming  weak  ;   who,  warlike, 
though 


160  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Unarmed  with  bow  and  sword ;  appearing  mad, 

Though  sounder  than  the  schools  alone  e'er  made 

The  doctor's  head ;  devote  to  God  and  truth, 

And  sworn  to  man's  eternal  weal,  beyond 

Repentance  sworn,  or  thought  of  turning  back  ; 

And  casting  far  behind  all  earthly  care. 

All  countryships,  all  national  regards. 

And  enmities,  all  narrow  bourns  of  state 

And  selfish  policy  ;  beneath  their  feet 

Treading  all  fear  of  opposition  down, 

All  fear  of  danger,  of  reproach  all  fear, 

And  evil  tongues  ; — went  forth,  from  Britain  went 

A  noiseless  band  of  heavenly  soldiery. 

From  out  the  armory  of  God  equipped, 

Invincible,  to  conquer  sin,  to  blow 

The  trump  of  freedom  in  the  despot's  ear, 

To  tell  the  bruted  slave  his  manhood  high, 

His  birthright  liberty,  and  in  his  hand 

To  put  the  writ  of  manumission,  signed 

By  God's  own  signature  ;  to  drive  away 

From  earth  the  dark,  infernal  legionry 

Of  superstition,  ignorance,  and  hell ; 

High  on  the  pagan  hills,  where  Satan  sat. 

Encamped,  and  o'er  the  subject  kingdoms  threw 

Perpetual  night,  to  plant  Immanuel's  cross, 

The  ensign  of  the  Gospel,  blazing  round 

Immortal  truth  ;  and,  in  the  wilderness 

Of  human  waste,  to  sow  eternal  life  ; 

And  from  the  rock,  where  Sin,  with  horrid  yell, 

Devoured  its  victims  unredeemed,  to  raise 

The  melody  of  grateful  hearts  to  Heaven : 

To  falsehood,  truth  ;  to  pride,  humility ; 

To  insult,  meekness  ;  pardon,  to  revenge  ; 

To  stubborn  prejudice,  unwearied  zeal ; 

To  censure,  unaccusing  minds  ;  to  stripes 

Long  suffering  ;  to  want  of  all  things,  hope; 

To  death,  assured  faith  of  life  to  come ; — 

Opposing.    These,  great  worthies,  rising,  shone 


BOOK  VII.  161 

Through  all  the  tribes  and  nations  of  mankind, 
Like  Hesper,  glorious  once  among  the  stars 
Of  twilight,  and  around  them,  flocking,  stood, 
Arrayed  in  white,  the  people  they  had  saved. 

Great  Ocean  !  too,  that  morning,  thou  the  call 
Of  restitution  heardst,  and  reverently 
To  the  last  trumpet's  voice,  in  silence,  listened. 
Great  Ocean  !  strongest  of  creation's  sons, 
Unconquerable,  unreposed,  untired, 
That  rolled  the  wild,  profound,  eternal  bass. 
In  Nature's  anthem,  and  made  music,  such 
As  pleased  the  ear  of  God  !  original, 
Unmarred,  unfaded  work  of  Deity, 
And  unburlesqued  by  mortal's  puny  skill. 
From  age  to  age  enduring  and  unchanged, 
Majestical,  inimitable,  vast. 
Loud  uttering  satire,  day  and  night,  on  each 
Succeeding  race,  and  little  pompous  w^ork 
Of  man  I — unfallen,  religious,  holy  Sea  ! 
Thou  bowedst  thy  glorious  head  to  none,  fearedst  none, 
Heardst  none,  to  none  didst  honour,  but  to  God 
Thy  Maker,  only  worthy  to  receive 
Thy  great  obeisance  !     Undiscovered  Sea ! 
Into  thy  dark,  unknown,  mysterious  caves, 
And  secret  haunts,  unfathomably  deep 
Beneath  all  visible  retired,  none  went, 
And  came  again,  to  tell  the  wonders  there. 
Tremendous  Sea !  what  time  thou  lifted  up 
Thy  waves  on  high,  and  with  thy  winds  and  storms 
Strange  pastime  took,  and  shook  thy  mighty  sides 
Indignantly, — the  pride  of  navies  fell ; 
Beyond  the  arm  of  help,  unheard,  unseen, 
Sunk  friend  and  foe,  with  all  their  wealth  and  war ; 
And  on  thy  shores,  men  of  a  thousand  tribes, 
Polite  and  barbarous,  trembling  stood,  amazed, 
Confounded,  terrified,  and  thought  vast  thoughts 
Of  ruin,  boundlessness,  omnipotence, 
14^ 


162  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Infinitude,  eternity  ;  and  thought 

And  wondered    still,   and    grasped,   and  grasped,  and 

grasped 
Again  ;  beyond  her  reach,  exerting  all 
The  soul,  to  take  thy  great  idea  in, 
To  comprehend  incomprehensible ; 
And  wondered  more,  and  felt  their  littleness 
Self-purifying,  unpolluted  Sea  ! 
Lover  unchangeable,  thy  faithful  breast 
For  ever  heaving  to  the  lovely  Moon, 
That,  like  a  shy  and  holy  virgin,  robed 
In  saintly  white,  walked  nightly  in  the  heavens. 
And  to  the  everlasting  serenade 
Gave  gracious  audience  ;  nor  was  wooed  in  vam. 
That  morning,  thou,  that  slumbered  not  before. 
Nor  slept,  great  Ocean !  laid  thy  waves  to  rest, 
And  hushed  thy  mighty  minstrelsy.     No  breath 
Thy  deep  composure  stirred,  no  fin,  no  oar ; 
Like  beauty  newly  dead,  so  calm,  so  still. 
So  lovely,  thou,  beneath  the  light  that  fell 
From  angel-chariots,  sentinelled  on  high. 
Reposed,  and  listened,  and  saw  thy  living  change, 
Thy  dead  arise.     Cliarybdis  listened,  and  Scylla; 
And  savage  Euxine,  on  the  Thracian  beach, 
Lay  motionless  :  and  every  battle-ship 
Stood  still,  and  every  ship  of  merchandise. 
And  all  that  sailed,  of  every  name,  stood  still. 
Even  as  the  ship  of  war,  full-fledged,  and  swiflb. 
Like  some  fierce  bird  of  prey,  bore  on  her  foe, 
Opposing  with  as  fell  intent,  the  wind 
Fell  withered  from  her  wings  that  idly  hung ; 
The  stormy  bullet,  by  the  cannon  thrown 
Uncivilly  against  the  heavenly  face 
Of  men,  half  sped,  sunk  harmlessly,  and  all 
Her  loud,  uncircumcised,  tempestuous  crew. 
How  ill  prepared  to  meet  their  God  !  were  changed. 
Unchangeable — the  pilot  at  the  helm 
Was  changed,  and  the  rough  captain,  while  he  mouUied 


I  BOOK  VII.  163 

f     The  huge,  enormous  oath.    The  fisherman, 
That  in  his  boat,  expectant,  watched  his  Unes, 
Or  mended  on  the  shore  his  net,  and  sung, 
^      Happy  in  thoughtlessness,  some  careless  air, 
'^'      Heard  Time  depart,  and  felt  the  sudden  change. 
In  solitary  deep,  far  out  from  land. 
Or  steering  from  the  port  with  many  a  cheer, 
Or  while  returning  from  long  voyage,  fraught 
With  lusty  wealth,  rejoicing  to  have  escaped 
The  dangerous  main,  and  plagues  of  foreign  climes, — 
The  merchant  quaffed  his  native  air,  refreshed ; 
And  saw  his  native  hills,  in  the  sun's  light, 
Serenely  rise  ;  and  thought  of  meetings  glad, 
And  many  days  of  ease  and  honour,  spent 
Among  his  friends — unwarned  man  !  even  then. 
The  knell  of  Time  broke  on  his  reverie. 
And,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  his  hopes, 
All  earthly,  perished  all.     As  sudden  rose. 
From  out  their  watery  beds,  the  Ocean's  dead. 
Renewed  ;  and,  on  the  unstirring  billows,  stood, 
From  pole  to  pole,  thick  covering  all  the  sea — 
Of  every  nation  blent,  and  every  age. 

Wherever  slept  one  grain  of  human  dust, 
Essential  organ  of  a  human  soul. 
Wherever  tossed,  obedient  to  the  call 
Of  God's  omnipotence,  it  hurried  on 
To  meet  its  fellow  particles,  revived, 
Rebuilt,  in  union  indestructible. 
No  atom  of  his  spoils  remained  to  Death. 
From  his  strong  arm,  by  stronger  arm  released, 
Immortal  now  in  soul  and  body  both, 
Beyond  his  reach,  stood  all  the  sons  of  men, 
g      And  saw,  behind,  his  valley  lie,  unfeared. 

f 

O  Death  !  with  what  an  eye  of  desperate  lust, 

From  out  thy  emptied  vaults,  thou  then  didst  look 

After  the  risen  multitudes  of  all 


164  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Mankind  !  Ah !  thou  hadst  been  the  terror  long, 

And  murderer,  of  all  of  woman  born. 

None  could  escape  thee  !    In  thy  dungeon  house, 

Where  darkness  dwelt,  and  putrid  loathsomeness, 

And  fearful  silence,  villanously  still, 

And  all  of  horrible  and  deadly  name, — 

Thou  satst,  from  age  to  age,  insatiate. 

And  drank  the  blood  of  men,  and  gorged  their  flesh, 

And  with  thy  iron  teeth  didst  grind  their  bones 

To  powder,  treading  out,  beneath  thy  feet. 

Their  very  names  and  memories.     The  blood 

Of  nations  could  not  slake  thy  parched  throat. 

No  bribe  could  buy  thy  favour  for  an  hour. 

Or  mitigate  thy  ever-cruel  rage 

For  human  prey.     Gold,  beauty,  virtue,  youth. 

Even  helpless,  swaddled  innocency,  failed 

To  soften  thy  heart  of  stone  !  the  infant's  blood 

Pleased  well  thy  taste,  and,  while  the  mother  wept. 

Bereaved  by  thee,  lonely  and  waste  in  wo. 

Thy  ever-grinding  jaws  devoured  her  too. 

Each  son  of  Adam's  family  beheld. 
Where'er  he  turned,  whatever  path  of  life 
He  trode,  thy  goblin  form  before  him  stand, 
Like  trusty  old  assassin,  in  his  aim 
Steady  and  sure  as  eye  of  destiny. 
With  sithe,  and  dart,  and  strength  invincible. 
Equipped,  and  ever  menacing  his  life. 
He  turned  aside,  he  drowned  himself  in  sleep, 
In  wine,  in  pleasure  ;  travelled,  voyaged,  sought 
Receipts  for  health  from  all  he  met  ;  betook 
To  business,  speculate,  retired ;  returned 
Again  to  active  life,  again  retired  ; 
Returned,  retired  again  ;  prepared  to  die. 
Talked  of  thy  nothingness,  conversed  of  life 
To  come,  laughed  at  his  fears,  filled  up  the  cup, 
Drank  deep,  refrained  ;  filled  up,  refrained  again  ; 
Planned,  built  him  round  with  splendour,  won  applause, 


BOOK  VII.  166 

Made  large  alliances  witli  men  and  things. 

Read  deep  in  science  and  philosophy, 

To  fortify  his  soul ;  heard  lectures  prove 

The  present  ill,  and  future  good  ;  observed 

His  pulse  beat  regular,  extended  hope  ; 

Thought,  dissipated  thought,  and  thought  again ; 

Indulged,  abstained,  and  tried  a  thousand  schemes, 

To  ward  thy  blow,  or  hide  thee  from  his  eye  ; 

But  still  thy  gloomy  terrors,  dipped  in  sin, 

Before  him  frowned,  and  withered  all  his  joy. 

Still,  feared  and  hated  thing  !  thy  ghostly  shape 

Stood  in  his  avenues  of  fairest  hope  ; 

Unmannerly  and  uninvited,  crept 

Into  his  haunts  of  most  select  delight. 

Still,  on  his  halls  of  mirth,  and  banqueting, 

And  revelry,  thy  shadowy  hand  was  seen 

Writing  thy  name  of — Death.     Vile  worm,  that  gnawed 

The  root  of  all  his  happiness  terrene,  the  gall 

Of  all  his  sweet,  the  thorn  of  every  rose  , 

Of  earthly  bloom,  cloud  of  his  noon-day  sky, 

Frost  of  his  spring,  sigh  of  his  loudest  laugh. 

Dark  spot  on  every  form  of  loveliness, 

Rank  smell  amidst  his  rarest  spiceries, 

Harsh  dissonance  of  all  his  harmony, 

Reserve  of  every  promise,  and  the  if 

Of  all  to-morrows  ! — now,  beyond  thy  vale, 

Stood  all  the  ransomed  multitude  of  men, 

Immortal  all :  and,  in  their  visions,  saw 

Thy  visage  grim  no  more.     Great  payment  day  ! 

Of  all  thou  ever  conquered,  none  was  left 

In  thy  unpeopled  realms,  so  populous  once. 

He,  at  whose  girdle  hang  the  keys  of  death, 

And  life,  not  bought  but  with  the  blood  of  Him 

Who  wears,  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  that  morn, 

Dispelled  the  cloud  that  sat  so  long,  so  thick, 

So  heavy  o'er  thy  vale ;  opened  all  thy  doors, 

Unopened  before  ;  and  set  thy  prisoners  free. 

Vain  was  resistance,  and  to  follow  vain. 


166  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

In  thy  unveiled  caves,  and  solitudes 

Of  dark  and  dismal  emptiness,  thou  satst, 

Rolling  thy  hollow  eyes,  disabled  thing  ! 

Helpless,  despised,  unpitied,  and  unfeared, 

Like  some  fallen  tyrant,  chained  in  sight  of  all 

The  people  ;  from  thee  dropped  thy  pointless  dart, 

Thy  terrors  withered  all,  thy  ministers, 

Annihilated,  fell  before  thy  face. 

And  on  thy  maw  eternal  Hunger  seized. 

Nor  yet,  sad  monster !  wast  thou  left  alone. 
In  thy  dark  dens  some  phantoms  still  remained, — 
Ambition,  Vanity,  and  earthly  Fame, 
Swollen  Ostentation,  meagre  Avarice, 
Mad  Superstition,  smooth  Hypocrisy, 
And  Bigotry  intolerant,  and  Fraud, 
And  wilful  Ignorance,  and  sullen  Pride, 
Hot  Controversy,  and  the  subtle  ghost 
Of  vain  Philosophy,  and  worldly  Hope, 
And  sweet-lipped,  hollow-hearted  Flattery. 
All  these,  great  personages  once  on  earth, 
And  not  unfollowed,  nor  unpraised,  were  left. 
Thy  ever-unredeemed,  and  with  thee  driven 
To  Erebus,  through  whose  uncheered  wastes, 
Thou  may  est  chase  them,  with  thy  broken  sithe 
Fetching  vain  strokes,  to  all  eternity. 
Unsatisfied,  as  men  who,  in  the  days 
Of  Time,  their  unsubstantial  forms  pursued. 


THE 


COURSE  OF  TIME. 


BOOK  VIII. 


Reanimated,  now,  and  dressed  in  robes 
Of  everlasting  wear,  in  the  last  pause 
Of  expectation,  stood  the  human  race, 
Buoyant  in  air,  or  covering  shore  and  sea, 
From  east  to  west,  thick  as  the  eared  grain, 
In  golden  autumn  waved,  from  field  to  field, 
Profuse,  by  Nilus'  fertile  wave,  while  yet 
Earth  was,  and  men  were  in  her  valleys  seen . 

Still,  all  was  calm  in  heaven.    Nor  yet  appeared 
The  Judge,  nor  aught  appeared,  save  here  and  there 
On  wing  of  golden  plumage  borne  at  will, 
A  curious  angel,  that  from  out  the  skies 
Now  glanced  a  look  on  man,  and  then  retired. 
As  calm  was  all  on  earth.     The  ministers 
Of  God's  unsparing  vengeance,  waited,  still 
Unbid     No  sun,  no  moon,  no  star,  gave  light. 
A  blessed  and  holy  radiance,  travelled  far 
From  day  original,  fell  on  the  face 
Of  men,  and  every  countenance  revealed ; 
Unpleasant  to  the  bad,  whose  visages 
Had  lost  all  guise  of  seeming  happiness, 
With  which  on  earth  such  pains  they  took  to  hide 
Their  misery  in.    On  their  grim  features,  now 


168  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

The  plain,  unvisored  index  of  the  soul, 
The  true,  untampered  witness  of  the  heart. 
No  smile  of  hope,  no  look  of  vanity 
Beseeching  for  applause,  was  seen  ;  no  scowl 
Of  self-important,  all-despitidng  pride, 
That  once  upon  the  poor  and  needy  fell, 
Like  winter  on  the  unprotected  flower. 
Withering  their  very  being  to  decay. 
No  jesting  mirth,  no  wanton  leer,  was  seen, 
No  sullen  lower  of  braggart  fortitude 
Defying  pain,  nor  anger,  nor  revenge ; 
But  fear  instead,  and  terror,  and  remorse  ; 
And  chief,  one  passion,  to  its  answering,  shaped 
The  features  of  the  damned,  and  in  itself 
Summed  all  the  rest, — unutterable  despair. 

What  on  the  righteous  shone  of  foreign  light, 
Was  all  redundant  day,  they  needed  not. 
For  as,  by  nature.  Sin  is  dark,  and  loves 
The  dark,  still  hiding  from  itself  in  gloom, 
And  in  the  darkest  hell  is  jJtill  itself 
The  darkest  hell,  and  the  severest  wo, 
Where  all  is  wo  ;  so  Virtue,  ever  fair  ! 
Doth  by  a  sympathy  as  strong  as  binds 
Two  equal  hearts,  well  pleased  in  wedded  love, 
For  ever  seek  the  light,  for  ever  seek 
All  fair  and  lovely  things,  all  beauteous  forms, 
All  images  of  excellence  and  truth  ; 
And  from  her  own  essential  being,  pure 
As  flows  the  fount  of  life  that  spirits  drink. 
Doth  to  herself  give  light,  nor  from  her  beams, 
As  native  to  her  as  her  own  existence. 
Can  be  divorced,  nor  of  her  glory  shorn, — 
Which  now,  from  every  feature  of  the  just, 
Divinely  rayed,  yet  not  from  all  alike  ; 
In  measure,  equal  to  the  soul's  advance 
In  virtue,  was  the  lustre  of  the  face. 


BOOK    VIII.  169 

It  was  a  strange  assembly  :  none,  of  all 
That  congregation  vast,  could  recollect 
Aught  like  it  in  the  history  of  man. 
No  badge  of  outward  state  was  seen,  no  mark 
Of  age,  or  rank,  or  national  attire, 
Or  robe  professional,  or  air  of  trade. 
Untitled,  stood  the  man  that  once  was  called 
My  lord,  unserved,  unfollowed ;  and  the  man 
Of  tithes,  right  reverend  in  the  dialect 
Of  Time  addressed,  ungowned,  unbeneficed, 
Uncorpulent ;  nor  now,  from  him  who  bore, 
With  ceremonious  gravity  of  step, 
And  face  of  borrowed  holiness  o'erlaid. 
The  ponderous  book  before  the  awful  priest, 
And  opened  and  shut  the  pulpit's  sacred  gates 
In  style  of  wonderful  observancy 
And  reverence  excessive,  in  the  beams 
Of  sacerdotal  splendour  lost,  or  if 
Observed,  comparison  ridiculous  scarce 
Could  save  the  little,  pompous,  humble  man 
From  laughter  of  the  people, — not  from  him 
Could  be  distinguished  then  the  priest  untithed. 
None  levees  held,  those  marts  where  princely  smiles 
Were  sold  for  flattery,  and  obeisance  mean, 
Unfit  from  man  to  man ;  none  came  or  went. 
None  wished  to  draw  attention,  none  was  poor, 
None  rich,  none  young,  none  old,  deformed  none  ; 
None  sought  for  place  or  favour,  none  had  aught 
To  give,  none  could  receive,  none  ruled,  none  served 
No  king,  no  subject  was ;  unscutcheoned  all, 
Uncrowned,  unplumed,  unhelmed,  unpedigreed, 
Unlaced,  uncoroneted,  unbestarred. 
Nor  countryman  was  seen,  nor  citizen ; 
Republican,  nor  humble  advocate 
Of  monarchy  ;  nor  idol  worshipper, 
Nor  beaded  papist,  nor  Mahometan  ; 
Episcopalian  none,  nor  presbyter  j 
Nor  Lutheran,  nor  Calvinist,  nor  Jew, 
15 


170  THE  COURSE    OP  TIME. 

Nor  Greek,  nor  sectary  of  any  name. 
Nor,  of  those  persons,  that  loud  title  bore, 
Most  high  and  mighty,  most  magnificent, 
Most  potent,  most  august,  most  worshipful, 
Most  eminent,  words  of  great  pomp,  that  pleased 
The  ear  of  vanity,  and  made  the  worms 
Of  earth  mistake  themselves  for  gods, — could  one 
Be  seen,  to  claim  these  phrases  obsolete. 

It  was  a  congregation  vast  of  men. 
Of  unappendaged  and  unvarnished  men, 
Of  plain,  unceremonious  human  beings, 
Of  all  but  moral  character  bereaved. 
His  vice  or  virtue,  now,  to  each  remained. 
Alone.     All  else,  with  their  grave-clothes,  men  had 
Put  off,  as  badges  worn  by  mortal,  not 
Immortal  man  ;  alloy  that  could  not  pass 
The  scrutiny  of  Death's  refining  fires  ; 
Dust  of  Time's  wheels,  by  multitudes  pursued 
Of  fools  that  shouted — Gold  !  fair  painted  fruit, 
At  which  the  ambitious  idiot  jumped,  while  men 
Of  wiser  mood  immortal  harvests  reaped  ; 
Weeds  of  the  human  garden,  sprung  from  earth's 
Adulterate  soil,  unfit  to  be  transplanted. 
Though  by  the  moral  botanist,  too  ofl. 
For  plants  of  heavenly  seed  mistaken  and  nursed  ; 
Mere  chaff,  that  Virtue,  when  she  rose  from  earth. 
And  waved  her  wings  to  gain  her  native  heights, 
Drove  from  the  verge  of  being,  leaving  Vice 
No  mask  to  hide  her  in ;  base-born  of  Time, 
In  which  God  claimed  no  property,  nor  had 
Prepared  for  them  a  place  in  heaven  or  hell. 
Yet  did  these  vain  distinctions,  now  forgot, 
Bulk  largely  in  the  filmy  eye  of  Time, 
And  were  exceeding  fair,  and  lured  to  death 
Immortal  souls.     But  they  were  passed,  for  all 
Ideal  now  was  passed ;  reality 
Alone  remained  ;  and  good  and  bad,  redeemed 


BOOK  VIII.  17J 

And  unredeemed,  distinguished  sole  the  sons 
Of  men.     Each,  to  his  proper  self  reduced. 
And  undisguised,  was  what  his  seeming  showed. 

The  man  of  earthly  fame,  whom  common  men 
Made  boast  of  having  seen,  who  scarce  could  pass 
The  ways  of  Time,  for  eager  crowds  that  pressed 
To  do  him  homage,  and  pursued  his  ear 
With  endless  praise,  for  deeds  unpraised  above, 
And  yoked  their  brutal  natures,  honoured  much 
To  drag  his  chariot  on, — unnoticed  stood. 
With  none  to  praise  him,  none  to  flatter  there. 

Blushing  and  dumb,  that  morning,  too,  was  seen 
The  mighty  reasoner,  he  who  deeply  searched 
The  origin  of  things,  and  talked  of  good 
And  evil,  much,  of  causes  and  effects. 
Of  mind  and  matter,  contradicting  all 
That  went  before  him,  and  himself,  the  while. 
The  laughing-stock  of  angels  ;  diving  far 
Below  his  depth,  to  fetch  reluctant  proof, 
That  he  himself  was  mad  and  wicked  too, 
When,  proud  and  ignorant  man,  he  meant  to  prove 
That  God  had  made  the  universe  amiss, 
And  sketched  a  better  plan.     Ah  !  foolish  sage  ! 
He  could  not  trust  the  word  of  Heaven,  nor  see 
The  hght  which  from  the  Bible  blazed, — that  lamp 
Which  God  threw  from  his  palace  down  to  earth, 
To  guide  his  wandering  children  home, — yet  leaned 
His  cautious  faith  on  speculations  wild, 
And  visionary  theories  absurd. 
Prodigiously,  deliriously  absurd, 
Compared  with  which,  the  most  erroneous  flight 
That  poet  ever  took  when  warm  with  wine. 
Was  moderate  conjecturing  :  he  saw,  \ 

Weighed  in  the  balance  of  eternity. 
His  lore  how  light,  and  wished,  too  late,  that  he 
Had  staid  at  home,  and  learned  to  know  himself, 


m 


THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 


And  done,  what  peasants  did,  disputed  less, 

And  more  obeyed.     Nor  less  he  grieved  his  time 

Misspent,  the  man  of  curious  research, 

Who  travelled  far  through  lands  of  hostile  clime 

And  dangerous  inhabitant,  to  fix 

The  bounds  of  empires  passed,  and  ascertain 

The  burial-place  of  heroes,  never  born  ; 

Despising  present  things,  and  future  too, 

And  groping  in  the  dark  unsearchable 

Of  finished  years, — by  dreary  ruins  seen. 

And  dungeons  damp,  and  vaults  of  ancient  waste, 

With  spade  and  mattock,  delving  deep  to  raise 

Old  vases  and  dismembered  idols  rude  ; 

With  matchless  perseverance,  spelling  out 

Words  without  sense.    Poor  man  !  he  clapped  his  hands, 

Enraptured,  when  he  found  a  manuscript 

That  spoke  of  pagan  gods;  and  yet  forgot 

The  God  who  made  the  sea  and  sky,  alas ! 

Forgot  that  trifling  was  a  sin  ;  stored  much 

Of  dubious  stuff,  but  laid  no  treasure  up 

In  heaven  ;  on  mouldered  columns  scratched  his  name, 

But  ne'er  inscribed  it  in  the  book  of  life. 

Unprofitable  seemed,  and  unapproved, 
That  day,  the  sullen,  self-vindictive  life 
Of  the  recluse.     With  crucifixes  hung, 
And  spells,  and  rosaries,  and  wooden  saints, 
Like  one  of  reason  reft,  he  journeyed  forth. 
In  show  of  miserable  poverty, 
And  chose  to  beg, — as  if  to  live  on  sweat 
Of  other  men,  had  promised  great  reward ; 
On  his  own  flesh  inflicted  cruel  wounds. 
With  naked  foot  embraced  the  ice,  by  the  hour 
Said  mass,  and  did  most  grievous  penance  vile ; 
And  then  retired  to  drink  the  filthy  cup 
Of  secret  wickedness,  and  fabricate 
All  lying  wonders,  by  the  untaught  received 
For  revelations  new.    Deluded  wretch  ! 


BOOK  VIII.  173 

Did  he  not  know,  that  the  most  Holy  One 
Required  a  cheerful  life  and  holy  heart  ? 

Most  disappointed  in  that  crowd  of  men, 
The  man  of  subtle  controversy  stood, 
The  bigot  theologian,  in  minute 
Distinctions  skilled,  and  doctrines  unreduced 
To  practice  ;  in  debate  how  loud  •  how  long  . 
How  dexterous  !  in  Christian  love  how  cold  ! 
His  vain  conceits  were  orthodox  alone. 
The  immutable  and  heavenly  truth,  revealed 
By  God,  was  naught  to  him.     He  had  an  art, 
A  kind  of  hellish  charm,  that  made  the  lips 
Of  truth  speak  falsehood,  to  his  liking  turned 
The  meaning  of  the  text,  made  trifles  seem 
The  marrow  of  salvation  ;  to  a  word, 
A  name,  a  sect,  that  sounded  in  the  ear, 
And  to  the  eye  so  many  letters  showed. 
But  did  no  more, — gave  value  infinite  ; 
Proved  still  his  reasoning  best,  and  his  belief. 
Though  propped  on  fancies  wild  as  madmen's  dreams, 
Most  rational,  most  scriptural,  most  sound  ; 
With  mortal  heresy  denouncing  all 
Who  in  his  arguments  could  see  no  force. 
On  points  of  faith,  too  fine  for  human  sight. 
And  never  understood  in  heaven,  he  placed 
His  everlasting  hope,  undoubting  placed. 
And  died ;  and,  when  he  opened  his  ear,  prepared 
To  hear,  beyond  the  grave,  the  minstrelsy 
Of  bliss,  he  heard,  alas  !  the  wail  of  wo. 
He  proved  all  creeds  false  but  his  own,  and  found, 
At  last,  his  own  most  false — most  false,  because 
He  spent  his  time  to  prove  all  others  so. 

O  love-destroying,  cursed  Bigotry  !       ' 
Cursed  in  heaven,  but  cursed  more  in  hell. 
Where  millions  curse  thee,  and  must  ever  curse  ! 
Religion's  most  abhorred  !  perdition's  most 
15^ 


IW  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Forlorn  !  God's  most  abandoned  !  hell's  most  damned ! 

The  infidel,  who  turned  his  impious  war 

Against  the  walls  of  Zion,  on  the  rock 

Of  ages  built,  and  higher  than  the  clouds, 

Sinned,  and  received  his  due  reward  ;  but  she 

Within  her  walls  sinned  more.     Of  Ignorance 

Begot,  her  daughter,  Persecution,  walked  , 

The  earth,  from  age  to  age,  and  drank  the  blood 

Of  saints,  with  horrid  relish  drank  the  blood 

Of  God's  peculiar  children,  and  was  drunk, 

And  in  her  drunkenness  dreamed  of  doing  good. 

The  supplicating  hand  of  innocence, 

That  made  the  tiger  mild,  and  in  his  wrath 

The  lion  pause,  the  groans  of  suffering  most 

Severe,  were  naught  to  her  ;  she  laughed  at  groans: 

No  music  pleased  her  more,  and  no  repast 

So  sweet  to  her,  as  blood  of  men  redeemed 

By  blood  of  Christ.     Ambition's  self,  though  mad, 

And  nursed  on  human  gore,  with  her  compared, 

Was  merciful.     Nor  did  she  always  rage. 

She  had  some  hours  of  meditation,  set 

Apart,  wherein  she  to  her  study  went, 

The  Inquisition,  model  most  complete 

Of  perfect  wickedness,  where  deeds  were  done,-  - 

Deeds !  let  them  ne'er  be  named, — and  sat  and  planned 

Deliberately,  and  with  most  musing  pains, 

How,  to  extremest  thrill  of  agony. 

The  flesh,  and  blood,  and  souls  of  holy  men, 

Her  victims,  might  be  wrought ;  and  when  she  saw 

New  tortures  of  her  labouring  fancy  born. 

She  leaped  for  joy,  and  made  great  haste  to  try 

Their  force — well  pleased  to  hear  a  deeper  groan. 

But  now  her  day  of  mirth  was  passed,  and  come 
Her  day  to  weep,  her  day  of  bitter  groans. 
And  sorrow  unbemoaned,  the  day  of  grief 
And  wrath  retributory  poured  in  full 
On  all  that  took  her  part.    The  man  of  sin, 


BOOK  VIII.  175 

The  mystery  of  iniquity,  her  friend 
Sincere,  who  pardoned  sin,  unpardoned  still, 
And  in  the  name  of  God  blasphemed,  and  did 
All  wicked,  all  abominable  things. 
Most  abject  stood,  that  day,  by  devils  hissed, 
And  by  the  looks  of  those  he  murdered,  scorched  ; 
And  plagued  with  inward  shame,  that  on  his  cheek 
Burned,  while  his  votaries,  who  left  the  earth. 
Secure  of  bliss,  around  him,  undeceived, 
Stood,  undeceivable  till  then  ;  and  knew. 
Too  late,  him  fallible,  themselves  accursed, 
And  all  their  passports  and  certificates, 
A  lie  :  nor  disappointed  more,  nor  more 
Ashamed,  the  Mussulman,  when  he  saw,  gnash 
His  teeth  and  wail,  whom  he  expected  judge. 
All  these  were  damned  for  bigotry,  were  damned, 
Because  they  thought,  that  they  alone  served  God, 
And  served  him  most,  when  most  they  disobeyed. 

Of  those  forlorn  and  sad,  thou  mightst  have  markcdi 
In  number  most  innumerable,  stand 
The  indolent )  too  lazy  these  to  make 
Inquiry  for  themselves,  they  stuck  their  faith 
To  some  well-fatted  priest,  with  offerings  bribed 
To  bring  them  oracles  of  peace,  and  take 
Into  his  manag^ement  all  the  concerns 
Of  their  eternity ;  managed  how  well 
They  knew,  that  day,  and  might  have  sooner  known, 
That  the  commandment  was.  Search,  and  believe 
In  Me,  and  not  in  man ;  who  leans  on  him 
Leans  on  a  broken  reed,  that  will  impierce 
The  trusted  side.    I  am  the  way,  the  truth, 
The  life,  alone,  and  there  is  none  besides. 

This  did  they  read,  and  yet  reflised  to  search, 
To  search  what  easily  was  found,  and,  found. 
Of  price  uncountable.     Most  foolish,  they 
Thought  God  with  ignorance  pleased,  and  bhnded  faith, 


176  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

That  took  not  root  in  reason,  purified 

With  holy  influence  of  his  Spirit  pure. 

So,  on  they  walked,  and  stumbled  in  the  light 

Of  noon,  because  they  would  not  open  their  eyes 

Effect  how  sad  of  sloth  !  that  made  them  risk 

Their  piloting  to  the  eternal  shore, 

To  one  who  could  mistake  the  lurid  flash 

Of  hell  for  heaven's  true  star,  rather  than  bow 

The  knee,  and  by  one  fervent  word  obtain 

His  guidance  sure,  who  calls  the  stars  by  name. 

They  prayed  by  proxy,  and  at  second  hand 

Believed,  and  slept,  and  put  repentance  off", 

Until  the  knock  of  death  awoke  them,  when  ' 

They  saw  their  ignorance  both,  and  him  they  paid 

To  bargain  of  their  souls  'twixt  them  and  God, 

Fled,  and  began  repentance  without  end. 

How  did  they  wish,  that  morning,  as  they  stood 

With  blushing  covered,  they  had  for  themselves 

The  Scripture  searched,  had  for  themselves  believed, 

And  made  acquaintance  with  the  Judge  ere  then  ! 

Great  day  of  termination  to  the  joys 
Of  sin  !  to  joys  that  grew  on  mortal  boughs. 
On  trees  whose  seed  fell  not  from  heaven,  whose  top 
Reached  not  above  the  clouds.     From  such,  alone,    , 
The  epicure  took  all  his  meals.     In  choice 
Of  morsels  for  the  body,  nice  he  was, 
And  scrupulous,  and  knew  all  wines  by  smell 
Or  taste,  and  every  composition  knew 
Of  cookery  ;  but  grossly  drank,  unskilled, 
The  cup  of  spiritual  pollution  up. 
That  sickened  his  soul  to  death,  while  yet  his  eyes 
Stood  out  with  fat.     His  feelings  were  his  guide. 
He  ate,  and  drank,  and  slept,  and  took  all  joys, 
Forbid  and  unforbid,  as  impulse  urged 
Or  appetite,  nor  asked  his  reason  why. 
He  said,  he  followed  Nature  still,  but  lied  ; 
For  she  was  temperate  and  chaste,  he  full 


BOOK  VIII.  1*77 

Of  wine  and  all  adultery  ;  her  face 
Was  holy,  most  unholy  his  ;  her  eye 
Was  pure,  his  shot  unhallowed  fire  ;  her  lips 
Sang  praise  to  God,  his  uttered  oaths  profane ; 
Her  breath  was  sweet,  his  rank  with  foul  debauch 
Yet  pleaded  he  a  kind  and  feeling  heart. 
Even  when  he  left  a  neighbour's  bed  defiled. 
Like  migratory  fowls,  that  flocking  sailed 
From  isle  to  isle,  steering  by  sense  alone. 
Whither  the  clime  their  liking  best  beseemed  ; 
So  he  was  guided,  so  he  moved  through  good 
And  evil,  right  and  wrong,  but,  ah  !  to  fate 
All  different:  they  slept  in  dust,  unpained; 
He  rose,  that  day,  to  suffer  endless  pain. 

Cured  of  his  unbelief,  the  sceptic  stood. 
Who  doubted  of  his  being  while  he  breathed, 
Than  whom  glossography  itself,  that  spoke 
Huge  folios  of  nonsense  every  hour, 
And  left,  surrounding  every  page,  its  marks 
Of  prodigal  stupidity,  scarce  more 
Of  folly  raved.     The  tyrant  too,  who  sat 
In  grisly  council,  like  a  spider  couched, 
With  ministers  of  locust  countenance, 
And  made  alliances  to  rob  mankind. 
And  holy  termed, — for  still,  beneath  a  name 
Of  pious  sound,  the  wicked  sought  to  veil 
Their  crimes, — forgetfiil  of  his  right  divine, 
Trembled,  and  owned  oppression  was  of  hell ; 
Nor  did  the  uncivil  robber,  who  unpursed 
The  traveller  on  the  high-way,  and  cut 
His  throat,  anticipate  severer  doom. 

In  that  assembly  there  was  one,  who,  while 
Beneath  the  sun,  aspired  to  be  a  fool ; 
In  different  ages  known  by  different  names. 
Not  worth  repeating  here.     Be  this  enough 
With  scrupulous  care  exact,  he  walked  the  rounds 


178  THE  COURSB  OF  TIME. 

Of  fashionable  duty,  laughed  when  sad ; 

When  merry,  wept ;  deceiving,  was  deceived ; 

And  flattering,  flattered.     Fashion  was  his  god. 
:pbse^uit»usly  he  fell  before  its  shrine, 

In  sla^ish;-plight,  and  trembled  to  oflfend. 

If  graveness  suited,  he  was  grave  ;  if  else, 

llevtrayaijed  sorely,  and  made  brief  repose, 

To  work  the '.proper  quantity  of  sin. 

In  fill  submissive/ to  its  changing  shape. 

Still  changing^. girded  he  his  vexed  frame, 

And  laughter  made  to  men  of  sounder  head. 

Most  circumspect  he  was  of  bows,  and  nods, 

And  salutations ;  and  most  seriously 

And  deeply  meditated  he  of  dress  ; 

And  in  his  dreams  saw  lace  and  ribbons  fly. 

His  soul  was  naught ;  he  damned  it,  ©very  day. 

Unceremoniously.     Oh  !  fool  of  fools  ! 

Pleased  with  a  painted  smile,  he  fluttered  on. 

Like  fly  of  gaudy  plume,  by  fashion  driven, 
"As  faded  leaves  by  Autumn's  wind,  till  Death 

Put  forth  his  hand,  and  drew  him  out  of  sight. 

Oh  !  fool  of  fools  !  polite  to  man  ;  to  God 

Most  rude :  yet  had  he  many  rivals,  who. 

Age  after  age,  great  striving  made  to  be 

Ridiculous,  and  to  forget  they  had 

Immortal  souls,  that  day  remembered  well. 

As  rueful  stood  his  other  half,  as  wan 
Of  cheek.     Small  her  ambition  was,  but  strange. 
The  distaff",  needle,  all  domestic  cares. 
Religion,  children,  husband,  home,  were  things 
She  could  not  tear  the  thought  of,  bitter  drugs 
That  sickened  her  soul.     The  house  of  wanton  mirth 
And  revelry,  the  mask,  the  dance,  she  loved, 
And  in  their  service  soul  and  body  spent 
Most  cheerfully.     A  little  admiration. 
Or  true  or  false,  no  matter  which,  pleased  her, 
And  o'er  the  wreck  of  fortune  lost,  and  health, 


BOOK  Till.  179 

And  peace,  and  an  eternity  of  bliss 

Lost,  made  her  sweetly  smile.     She  was  convinced, 

That  God  had  made  her  greatly  out  of  taste  ; 

And  took  much  pains  to  make  herself  anew^^ —  ^ 

Bedaubed  with  paint,  and  hung  with  orna^^mR  ^C.    L I  0  n 

Of  curious  selection,  gaudy  toy  !  Jy^y^      OT  TBI 

A  show  unpaid  for,  paying  to  be  seei^^    %•  T  TT  T?  tD  tt 

As  beggar  by  the  way,  most  humbly  118^1  JJ  X  V   A  iTVi  ^ 

The  alms  of  public  gaze, — she  went  anroa^  O^S* 

Folly  admired,  and  indication  gave       ^^^4  X  ^t^HTl.  8 

Of  envy,  cold  Civility  made  bows  ^^^^'^^ 

And  smoothly  flattered,  Wisdom  shook  his  head, 

And  Laughter  shaped  his  lip  into  a  smile  ; 

Sobriety  did  stare.  Forethought  grew  pale,  • 

And  Modesty  hung  down  the  head  and  blushed, 

And  Pity  w^ept,  as,  on  the  frothy  surge 

Of  fashion  tossed,  she  passed  them  by,  like  sail 

Before  some  devilish  blast,  and  got  no  time 

To  think,  and  never  thought,  till  on  the  rock 

She  dashed,  of  ruin,  anguish,  and  despair. 

O  how  unlike  this  giddy  thing  in  Time  ! 
And  at  the  day  of  judgment  how  unlike, 
The  modest,  meek,  retiring  dame  !     Her  house 
Was  ordered  well,  her  children  taught  the  way 
Of  life,  who,  rising  up  in  honour,  called 
Her  blessed.     Best  pleased  to  be  admired  at  home, 
And  hear,  reflected  from  her  husband's  praise, 
Her  own,  she  sought  no  gaze  of  foreign  eye  ; 
His  praise  alone,  and  faithful  love,  and  trust 
Reposed,  was  happiness  enough  for  her. 
Yet  who,  that  saw  her  pass,  and  heard  the  poor 
With  earnest  benedictions  on  her  steps 
Attend,  could  from  obeisance  keep  his  eye. 
Or  tongue  from  due  applause  !     In  virtue  fair. 
Adorned  with  modesty,  and  matron  grace 
Unspeakable,  and  love,  her  face  was  like  , 

The  light,  most  welcome  to  the  eye  of  man  , 


180  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME 

.Refreshing  most,  most  honoured,  most  desired, 

Of  all  he  saw  in  the  dim  world  below. 

As  Morning  when  she  shed  her  golden  locks, 

And  on  the  dewy  top  of  Hermon  walked, 

Or  Zion  hill ;  so  glorious  was  her  path. 

Old  men  beheld,  and  did  her  reverence. 

And  bade  their  daughters  look,  and  take  from  her 

Example  of  their  future  life  ;  the  young 

Admired,  and  new  resolve  of  virtue  made. 

And  none  who  was  her  husband  asked  ;  his  air 

Serene,  and  countenance  of  joy,  the  sign 

Of  inward  satisfaction,  as  he  passed 

The  crowd,  or  sat  among  the  elders,  told. 

In  holiness  complete,  and  in  the  robes 

Of  saving  righteousness,  arrayed  for  heaven. 

How  fair,  that  day,  among  the  fair,  she  stood  I 

How  lovely  on  the  eternal  hills  her  steps  ! 

Restored  to  reason,  on  that  morn,  appeared 
The  lunatic,  who  raved  in  chains,  and  asked 
No  mercy  when  he  died.     Of  lunacy, 
Innumerous  were  the  causes ;  humbled  pride. 
Ambition  disappointed,  riches  lost. 
And  bodily  disease,  and  sorrow,  oft 
By  man  inflicted  on  his  brother  man  ; 
Sorrow  that  made  the  reason  drunk,  and  yet 
Left  much  untasted — so  the  cup  was  filled ; 
Sorrow  that,  like  an  ocean,  dark,  deep,  rough, 
And  shoreless,  rolled  its  billows  o'er  the  soul 
Perpetually,  and  without  hope  of  end. 

Take  one  example,  one  of  female  wo. 
Loved  by  a  father  and  a  mother's  love, 
In  rural  peace  she  lived,  so  fair,  so  light 
Of  heart,  so  good,  and  young,  that  reason,  scarce, 
The  eye  could  credit,  but  would  doubt,  as  she 
Did  stoop  to  pull  the  lily  or  the  rose 
From  morning's  dew,  if  it  reality 


BOOK    VIII. 

Of  flesh  and  blood,  or  holy  vision,  saw, 
In  imagery  of  perfect  womanhood. 
But  short  her  bloom,  her  happiness  was  short. 
One  saw  her  loveliness,  and,  with  desire 
Unhallowed,  burning,  to  her  ear  addressed 
Dishonest  words  :  "  Her  favour  was  his  life, 
His  heaven  ;  her  frown  his  wo,  his  night,  his  death.' 
With  turgid  phrase,  thus  wove  in  flattery's  loom, 
He  on  her  womanish  nature  won,  and  age 
Suspicionless,  and  ruined,  and  forsook. 
For  he  a  chosen  villain  was  at  heart, 
And  capable  of  deeds  that  durst  not  seek 
Repentance.     Soon  her  father  saw  her  shame^ 
His  heart  grew  stone,  he  drove  her  forth  to  want 
And  wintry  winds,  and  with  a  horrid  curse 
Pursued  her  ear,  forbidding  all  return. 

Upon  a  hoary  cliff",  that  watched  the  sea, 
Her  babe  was  found — dead.    On  its  little  cheek, 
The  tear  that  nature  bade  it  weep,  had  turned 
An  ice-drop,  sparkling  in  the  morning  beam ; 
And  to  the  turf  its  helpless  hands  were  frozen. 
For  she,  the  woful  mother,  had  gone  mad. 
And  laid  it  down,  regardless  of  its  fate 
And  of  her  own.    Yet  had  she  many  days 
Of  sorrow  in  the  world,  but  never  wept. 
She  lived  on  alms,  and  carried  in  her  hand 
Some  withered  stalks  she  gathered  in  the  spring. 
When  any  asked  the  cause,  she  smiled  and  said, 
They  were  her  sisters,  and  would  come  and  watch 
Her  grave  when  she  was  dead.     She  never  spoke 
Of  her  deceiver,  father,  mother,  home. 
Or  child,  or  heaven,  or  hell,  or  God,  but  still 
In  lonely  places  walked,  and  ever  gazed 
Upon  the  withered  stalks,  and  talked  to  them ; 
Till,  wasted  to  the  shadow  of  her  youth. 
With  wo  too  wide  to  see  beyond,  she  died — 
Not  unatoned  for  by  imputed  blood, 
IG 


isl 


182  THE    COURSE    OP    TIME. 

Nor  by  the  Spirit,  that  mysterious  works, 
Unsanctified.     Aloud,  her  father  cursed. 
That  day,  his  guilty  pride,  which  would  not  own 
A  daughter,  whom  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth 
Was  not  ashamed  to  call  his  own ;  and  he, 
Who  ruined  her,  read  from  her  holy  look, 
That  pierced  him  with  perdition  manifold, 
His  sentence,  burning  with  vindictive  fire. 

The  judge  that  took  a  bribe  ;  he  who  amiss 
Pleaded  the  widow's  cause,  and  by  delay 
Delaying  ever,  made  the  law  at  night 
More  intricate  than  at  the  dawn,  and  on 
The  morrow  farther  from  a  close,  than  Vv^hen 
The  sun  last  set,  till  he  who  in  the  suit 
Was  poorest,  by  his  emptied  coffers,  proved 
His  cause  the  worst ;  and  he  that  had  the  bag 
Of  weights  deceitful,  and  the  balance  false  ; 
And  he  that  with  a  fraudful  lip  deceived 
In  buying  or  in  selling  ; — these,  that  morn, 
Found  custom  no  excuse  .for  sin,  and  knew 
Plain  dealing  was  a  virtue,  but  too  late. 
And  he  that  was  supposed  to  do  nor  good 
Nor  ill,  surprised,  could  find  no  neutral  ground, 
And  learned,  that  to  do  nothing  was  to  serve 
The  devil,  and  transgress  the  laws  of  God. 
The  noisy  quack,  that  by  profession  lied, 
And  uttered  falsehoods  of  enormous  size. 
With  countenance  as  grave  as  truth  beseemed ; 
And  he  that  lied  for  pleasure,  whom  a  lust 
Of  being  heard  and  making  people  stare. 
And  a  most  steadfast  hate  of  silence,  drove 
Far  wide  of  sacred  truth,  who  never  took 
The  pains  to  think  of  what  he  was  to  say. 
But  still  made  haste  to  speak,  with  weary  tongue, 
Like  copious  stream  for  ever  flowing  on ; — 
Read  clearly  in  the  lettered  heavens,  what,  long 
Before,  they  might  have  read,  For  every  word 


BOOK   VIII.  183 

Of  folly,  you,  this  day,  shall  ^ive  account ; 
And  every  liar  shall  his  portion  have 
Among  the  cursed,  without  the  gates  of  life. 

With  groans  that  made  no  pause,  lamenting  there 
Were  seen  the  duellist  and  suicide. 
This  thought,  but  thought  amiss,  that  of  himself 
He  was  entire  proprietor  ;  and  so. 
When  he  was  tired  of  Time,  with  his  own  hand. 
He  opened  the  portals  of  Eternity, 
And  sooner  than  the  devils  hoped,  arrived 
In  hell.     The  other,  of  resentment  quick, 
And,  for  a  word,  a  look,  a  gesture,  deemed 
Not  scrupulously  exact  in  all  respect. 
Prompt  to  revenge,  went  to  the  cited  field, 
For  double  murder  armed,  his  own,  and  his 
That  as  himself  he  was  ordained  to  love. 
The  first,  in  pagan  books  of  early  times. 
Was  heroism  pronounced,  and  greatly  praised. 
In  fashion's  glQssary  of  later  days. 
The  last  was  honour  called,  and  spirit  high. 
Alas  !  'twas  mortal  spirit,  honour  which 
Forgot  to  wake  at  the  last  trumpet's  voice, 
Bearing  the  signature  of  Time  alone, 
Uncurrent  in  Eternity,  and  base. 
Wise  men  suspected  this  before  ;  for  they 
Could  never  understand  what  honour  meant, 
Or  why  that  should  be  honour  termed,  which  made 
Man  murder  man,  and  broke  the  laws  of  God 
Most  wantonly.     Sometimes,  indeed,  the  grave, 
And  those  of  Christian  creed  imagined,  spoke 
Admiringly  of  honour,  lauding  much 
The  noble  youth,  who,  after  many  rounds 
Of  boxing,  died  ;  or,  to  the  pistol  shot 
His  breast  exposed,  his  soul  to  endless  pain. 
But  they  who  most  admired,  and  understood 
This  honour  best,  and  on  its  altar  laid 
Their  lives,  most  obviously  were  fools  ;  and,  what 


184  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Fools  only,  and  the  wicked,  understood, 
The  wise  agreed  was  some  delusive  Shade, 
That  with  the  mist  of  time  should  disappear. 

Great  day  of  revelation  !  in  the  grave 
The  hypocrite  had  left  his  mask,  and  stood 
In  naked  ugliness.     He  was  a  man 
Who  stole  the  livery  of  the  court  of  heaven. 
To  serve  the  devil  in ;  in  virtue's  guise. 
Devoured  the  widow's  house  and  orphan's  bread; 
In  holy  phrase,  transacted  villanies 
That  common  sinners  durst  not  meddle  with. 
At  sacred  feast,  he  sat  among  the  saints. 
And  with  his  guilty  hands  touched  holiest  things 
■  And  none  of  sin  lamented  more,  or  sighed 
More  deeply,  or  with  graver  countenance, 
Or  longer  prayer,  wept  o'er  the  dying  man. 
Whose  infant  children,  at  the  moment,  he 
Planned  how  to  rob.    In  sermon  style  he  bought, 
And  sold,  and  lied ;  and  salutations  made 
In  Scripture  terms.     He  prayed  by  quantity. 
And  with  his  repetitions  long  and  loud, 
All  knees  were  weary.    With  one  hand  he  put 
A  penny  in  the  urn  of  poverty, 
And  with  the  other  took  a  shilling  out. 
On  charitable  lists, — those  trumps  which  told 
The  public  ear,  who  had  in  secret  done 
The  poor  a  benefit,  and  half  the  alms 
They  told  of,  took  themselves  to  keep  them  sounding,- 
He  blazed  his  name,  more  pleased  to  have  it  there 
Than  in  the  book  of  life.     Seest  thou  the  man  I 
A  serpent  with  an  angel's  voice  !  a  grave 
With  flowers  bestrewed !  and  yet  few  were  deceived. 
His  virtues  being  over-done,  his  face 
Too  grave,  his  prayers  too  long,  his  charities 
Too  pompously  attended,  and  his  speech 
Larded  too  frequently  and  out  of  time 
With  serious  phraseology, — were  rents 


BOOK  VIII.  185 

That  in  his  garments  opened  in  spite  of  him, 

Through  which  the  well-accustomed  eye  could  see 

The  rottenness  of  his  heart.     None  deeper  blushed, 

As  in  the  all-piercing  light  he  stood,  exposed, 

No  longer  herding  with  the  holy  ones. 

Yet  still  he  tried  to  bring  his  countenance 

To  sanctimonious  seeming ;  but,  meanwhile, 

The  shame  within,  now  visible  to  all, 

His  purpose  balked.    The  righteous  smiled,  and  even 

Despair  itself  some  signs  of  laughter  gave. 

As  ineffectually  he  strove  to  wipe 

His  brow,  that  inward  guiltiness  defiled. 

Detected  wretch!  of  all  the  reprobate. 

None  seemed  maturer  for  the  flames  of  hell. 

Where  still  his  face^  from  ancient'  custom,  wears 

A  holy  air  which  says  to  all  that  pass 

Him  by,  "  I  was  a  hypocrite  on  earth." 

That  was  the  hour  which  measured  out  to  each. 
Impartially,  his  share  of  reputation. 
Correcting  all  mistakes,  and  from  the  naine 
Of  the  good  man  all  slanders  wiping  off. 
Good  name  was  dear  to  all.     Without  it,  none 
Could  soundly  sleep,  even  on  a  royal  bed. 
Or  drink  with  relish  from  a  cup  of  gold  ; 
And  with  it,  on  his  borrowed  straw,  or  by 
The  leafless  hedge,  beneath  the  open  heavens, 
The  weary  beggar  took  untroubled  rest. 
It  was  a  music  of  most  heavenly  tone, 
To  which  the  heart  leaped  joyfully,  and  all 
The  spirits  danced.     For  honest  fame,  men  laid 
Their  heads  upon  the  block,  and,  while  the  axe 
Descended,  looked  and  smiled.     It  was  of  price 
Invaluable.     Riches,  health,  repose. 
Whole  kingdoms,  life,  were  given  for  it,  and  he 
Who  got  it  was  the  winner  still ;  and  he 
Who  sold  it  durst  not  open  his  ear,  nor  look 
On  human  face,  he  knew  himself  so  vile. 
16* 


186  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Yet  it,  with  all  its  preciousness,  was  due 
To  Virtue,  and  around  her  should  have  shed, 
Unasked,  its  savoury  smell ;  but  Vice,  deformed 
Itself,  and  ugly,  and  of  flavour  rank, 
To  rob  fair  Virtue  of  so  sweet  an  incense, 
And  with  it  to  anoint  and  salve  its  own 
Rotten  ulcers,  and  perfume  the  path  that  led 
To  death, — strove  daily  by  a  thousand  means  : 
And  oft  succeeded  to  make  Virtue  sour 
In  the  world's  nostrils,  and  its  loathly  self 
Smell  sweetly.    Rumour  was  the  messenger 
Of  defamation,  and  so  swift  that  none 
Could  be  the  first  to  tell  an  evil  tale  ; 
And  was,  withal,  so  infamous  for  lies, 
That  he  who  of  her  sayings,  on  his  creed. 
The  fewest  entered,  was  deemed  wisest  man. 
The  fool,  and  many  who  had  credit,  too. 
For  wisdom,  grossly  swallowed  all  she  said, 
Unsifted  ;  and  although,  at  every  word. 
They  heard  her  contradict  herself,  and  saw 
Hourly  they  were  imposed  upon  and  mocked. 
Yet  still  they  ran  to  hear  her  speak,  and  stared. 
And  wondered  much,  and  stood  aghast,  and  said 
It  could  not  be  ;  and,  while  they  blushed  for  shame 
At  their  own  faith,  and  seemed  to  doubt,  believed, 
And  whom  they  met,  with  many  sanctions,  told. 
So  did  experience  fail  to  teach  ; — so  hard 
It  was  to  learn  this  simple  truth, — confirmed 
At  every  corner  by  a  thousand  proofs, — 
That  common  Fame  most  impudently  lied. 

'Twas  Slander  filled  her  mouth  with  lying  words, 
Slander,  the  foulest  whelp  of  Sin.     The  man 
In  whom  this  spirit  entered  was  undone. 
His  tongue  was  set  on  fire  of  hell,  his  heart 
Was  black  as  death,  his  legs  were  faint  with  haste 
To  propagate  the  lie  his  soul  had  framed, 
His  pillow  was  the  peace  of  families 


BOOK  VIII.  187 

Destroyed,  the  sigh  of  innocence  reproached, 
Broken  friendships,  and  the  strife  of  brotherhoods  j 
Yet  did  he  spare  his  sleep,  and  hear  the  clock 
Number  the  midnight  watches,  on  his  bed, 
Devising  mischief  more  ;  and  early  rose. 
And  made  most  hellish  meals  of  good  men's  names. 

From  door  to  door  you  might  have  seen  him  speed, 
Or  placed  amidst  a  group  of  gaping  fools, 
And  whispering  in  their  ears,  with  his  foul  lips. 
Peace  fled  the  neighbourhood  in  which  he  made 
His  haunts  ;  and,  like  a  moral  pestilence. 
Before  his  breath,  the  healthy  shoots  and  blooms 
Of  social  joy  and  happiness,  decayed. 
Fools  only  in  his  company  were  seen. 
And  those  forsaken  of  God,  and  to  themselves 
Given  up.     The  prudent  shunned  him  and  his  house 
As  one  who  had  a  deadly  moral  plague. 
And  fain  would  all  have  shunned  him  at  the  day 
Of  judgment ;  but  in  vain.     All  who  gave  ear 
With  greediness,  or  wittingly  their  tongues 
Made  herald  to  his  lies,  around  him  wailed ; 
While  on  his  face,  thrown  back  by  injured  men, 
In  characters  of  ever-blushing  shame. 
Appeared  ten  thousand  slanders,  all  his  own. 

Among  the  accursed,  who  sought  a  hiding  place 
In  vain,  from  fierceness  of  Jehovah's  rage. 
And  from  the  hot  displeasure  of  the  Lamb, 
Most  wretched,  most  contemptible,  most  vile, — 
Stood  the  false  priest,  and  in  his  conscience  felt 
The  fellest  gnaw  of  the  Undying  Worm. 
And  so  he  might,  for  he  had  on  his  hands 
The  blood  of  souls,  that  would  not  wipe  away. 
Hear  what  he  was.     He  swore,  in  sight  of  God 
And  man,  to  preach  his  master,  Jesus  Christ ; 
Yet  preached  himself :  he  swore  that  love  of  souls, 
Alone,  had  drawn  him  to  the  church  ;  yet  strewed 


188  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

The  path  that  led  to  hell  with  tempting  flowers, 
And  in  the  ear  of  sinners,  as  they  took 
The  way  of  death,  he  whispered  peace  :  he  swore 
Away  ail  love  of  lucre,  all  desire 
Of  earthly  pomp ;  and  yet  a  princely  seat 
He  liked,  and  to  the  clink  of  Mammon's  box 
Gave  most  rapacious  ear.     His  prophecies, 
He  swore,  were  from  the  Lord  ;  and  yet,  taught  lies 
For  gain :  with  quackish  ointment,  healed  the  wounds 
And  bruises  of  the  soul,  outside,  but  left, 
Within,  the  pestilent  matter  unobserved. 
To  sap  the  moral  constitution  quite. 
And  soon  to  burst  again,  incurable. 
He  with  untempored  mortar  daubed  the  walls 
Of  Zion,  saying.  Peace,  when  there  was  none. 
The  man  who  came  with  thirsty  soul  to  hear 
Of  Jesus,  went  away  unsatisfied ; 
For  he  another  gospel  preached  than  Paul, 
And  one  that  had  no  Saviour  in't ;  and  yet, 
His  life  was  worse.     Faith,  charity,  and  love. 
Humility,  forgiveness,  holiness. 
Were  words  well  lettered  in  his  sabbath  creed  ; 
But  with  his  life  he  wrote  as  plain,  Revenge, 
Pride,  tyranny,  and  lust  of  wealth  and  power 
Inordinate,  and  lewdness  unashamed. 
He  was  a  wolf  in  clothing;  of  the  lamb, 
That  stole  into  the  fold  of  God,  and  on 
The  blood  of  souls,  which  he  did  sell  to  death, 
Grew  fat ;  and  yet,  when  any  would  have  turned 
Him  out,  he  cried,  "  Touch  not  the  priest  of  God." 
And  that  he  was  anointed,  fools  believed ; 
But  knew,  that  day,  he  was  the  devil's  priest, 
Anointed  by  the  hands  of  Sin  and  Death, 
And  set  peculiarly  apart  to  ill, —  i 

While  on  him  smoked  the  vials  of  perdition. 
Poured  measureless.     Ah  me  !  what  cursing  then 
Was  heaped  upon  his  head  by  ruined  souls, 
,  That  charged  him  with  their  murder,  as  he  stood, 


BOOK  vm.  189 

With  eye  of  all  the  unredeemed  most  sad, 
Waiting  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  ! 
But  let  me  pause,  for  thou  hast  seen  his  place 
And  punishment,  beyond  the  sphere  of  love. 

Much  was  removed  that  tempted  once  to  sin. 
Avarice  no  gold,  no  wine  the  drunkard,  saw. 
But  Envy  had  enough,  as  heretofore, 
To  fill  his  heart  with  gall  and  bitterness. 
What  made  the  man  of  envy  what  he  was, 
Was  worth  in  others,  vileness  in  himself, 
A  lust  of  praise,  with  undeserving  deeds. 
And  conscious  poverty  of  soul :  and  still 
It  was  his  earnest  work  and  daily  toil, 
With  lying  tongue,  to  make  the  noble  seem 
Mean  as  himself.     On  fame's  high  hill  he  saw 
The  laurel  spread  its  everlasting  green. 
And  wished  to  climb ;  but  felt  his  knees  too  weak, 
And  stood,  below,  unhappy,  laying  hands 
Upon  the  strong,  ascending  gloriously 
The  steps  of  honour,  bent  to  draw  them  back, 
Involving  ofl  the  brightness  of  their  path, 
In  mists  his  breath  had  raised.     Whene'er  he  heard, 
As  ofl  he  did,  of  joy  and  happiness, 
And  great  prosperity,  and  rising  worth, 
'Twas  like  a  wave  of  wormwood  o'er  his  soul 
Rolling  its  bitterness.     His  joy  was  wo, 
The  wo  of  others.     When,  from  wealth  to  want, 
From  praises  to  reproach,  from  peace  to  strife. 
From  mirth  to  tears,  he  saw  a  brother  fall, 
Or  Virtue  make  a  slip, — his  dreams  were  sweet. 
But  chief  with  Slander,  daughter  of  his  own, 
He  took  unhallowed  pleasure.     When  she  talked, 
And  with  her  filthy  lips  defiled  the  best. 
His  ear  drew  near  ;  with  wide  attention  gaped 
His  mouth;  his  eye,  well  pleased,  as  eager  gazed 
As  glutton,  when  the  dish  he  most  desired 
Was  placed  before  him  ;  and  a  horrid  mirth. 


190  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

At  intervals,  with  laughter  shook  his  sides. 

The  critic,  too,  who,  for  a  bit  of  bread, 

In  book  that  fell  aside  before  the  ink 

Was  dry,  poured  forth  excessive  nonsense,  gave 

P'm  much  delight.     The  critics, — some,  but  few, — 

\/ere  worthy  men,  and  earned  renown  which  had 

Immortal  roots  ;  but  most  were  weak  and  viJe. 

And,  as  a  cloudy  swarm  of  summer  flies, 

With  angry  hum  and  slender  lance,  beset 

The  sides  of  some  huge  animal ;  so  did 

They  buzz  about  the  illustrious  man,  and  fain, 

With  his  immortal  honour,  down  the  stream 

Of  fame  would  have  descende3  ;  but,  alas  I 

The  hand  of  Time  drove  them  away.     They  were, 

Indeed,  a  simple  race  of  men,  who  had 

One  only  art,  which  taught  them  still  to  say, 

Whate'er  was  done  might  have  been  better  done ; 

And  with  this  art,  not  ill  to  learn,  they  made 

A  shift  to  live.     But,  sometimes  too,  beneath 

The  dust  they  raised,  was  worth  a  while  obscured ; 

And  then  did  Envy  prophesy  and  laugh. 

O  Envy  !  hide  thy  bosom,  hide  it  deep. 

A  thousand  snakes,  with  black,  envenomed  mouths, 

Nest  there,  and  hiss,  and  feed  through  all  thy  heart  .- 

Such  one  I  saw,  here  interposing,  said 
The  new  arrived,  in  that  dark  den  of  shame, 
Whom  who  hath  seen  shall  never  wish  to  see 
Again.     Before  him,  in  the  infernal  gloom. 
That  omnipresent  shape  of  Virtue  stood 
On  which  he  ever  threw  his  eye  ;  and,  like 
A  cinder  that  had  life  and  feeling,  seemed 
His  face,  with  inward  pining,  to  be  what 
He  could  not  be.     As  being  that  had  burned 
Continually,  in  slow-consuming  fire, — 
Half  an  eternity,  and  was  to  burn 
For  evermore,  he  looked.     Oh  !  sight  to  be 
Forgotten !  thought  too  horrible  to  think ' 


BOOK  VIII.  191 

But  say^  believing  in  such  wo  to  come, 
Such  dreadful  certainty  of  endless  pain, 
Could  beings  of  forecasting  mould,  as  thou 
Entitlest  men,  deliberately  walk  on, 
Unscared,  and  overleap  their  own  belief 
Into  the  lake  of  ever-burning  fire  ? 

Thy  tone  of  asking  seems  to  make  reply, 
And  rightly  seems  :     They  did  not  so  believe. 
Not  one  of  all  thou  sawst  lament  and  wail 
In  Tophet,  perfectly  believed  the  word 
Of  God,  else  none  had  thither  gone.     Absurd, 
Tq  think  that  beings,  made  with  reason,  formed 
To  calculate,  compare,  choose,  and  reject. 
By  nature  taught,  and  self,  and  every  sense, 
'  To  choose  the  good,  and  pass  the  evil  by, 
Could,  with  full  credence  of  a  time  to  come, 
When  all  the  wicked  should  be  really  damned, 
And  cast  beyond  the  sphere  of  light  and  love, 
Have  persevered  in  sin  !  Too  foolish  this 
For  folly  in  its  prime.     Can  aught  that  thinks 
And  wills  choose  certain  evil,  and  reject 
Good,  in  his  heart  believing  he  does  so  .'' 
Could  man  choose  pain,  instead  of  endless  joy  ? 
Mad  supposition,  though  maintained  by  some 
Of  honest  mind.     Behold  a  man  condemned  ' 
Either  he  ne'er  inquired,  and  therefore  he 
Could  not  believe  ;  or,  else,  he  carelessly 
Inquired,  and  something  other  than  the  word 
Of  God  received  into  his  cheated  faith  ; 
And  therefore  he  did  not  believe,  but  down 
To  hell  descended,  leaning  on  a  lie. 

Faith  wa^  bewildered  much  by  men  who  meant 
To  make  it  clear,  so  simple  in  itself, 
A  thought  so  rudimcntal  and  so  plain. 
That  none  by  comment  could  it  plainer  make. 
All  faith  was  one.     In  object,  not  in  kind, 


192  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

The  difference  lay.    The  faith  that  saved  a  soal, 

And  that  which  in  the  common  truth  believed, 

In  essence,  were  the  same.     Hear,  then,  what  faith, 

True,  Christian  faith,  which  brought  salvation,  was : 

Belief  in  all  that  God  revealed  to  men ; 

Observe,  in  all  that  God  revealed  to  men, 

In  all  he  promised,  threatened,  commanded,  said, 

Without  exception,  and  without  a  doubt. 

Who  thus  beheved,  being  by  the  Spirit  touched, 

As  naturally  the  fruits  of  faith  produced, 

Truth,  temperance,  meekness,  holiness,  and  love^ 

As  human  eye  from  darkness  sought  the  light. 

How  could  he  else  ?    If  he,  who  had  firm  faith 

The  morrow's  sun  should  rise,  ordered  affairs 

Accordingly  ;  if  he,  who  had  firm  faith 

That  spring,  and  summer,  and  autumnal  days, 

Should  pass  away,  and  winter  really  come, 

Prepared  accordingly ;  if  he,  who  saw 

A  bolt  of  death  approaching,  turned  aside 

And  let  it  pass  ; — as  surely  did  the  man, 

Who  verily  believed  the  word  of  God, 

Though  erring  whiles,  its  general  laws  obey, 

Turn  back  from  hell,  and  take  the  way  to  heaven. 

That  faith  was  necessary,  some  alleged. 
Unreined  and  uncontrollable  by  will. 
Invention  savouring  much  of  hell !  Indeed, 
It  was  the  master-stroke  of  wickedness. 
Last  effort  of  Abaddon's  council  dark. 
To  make  man  think  himself  a  slave  to  fate. 
And,  worst  of  all,  a  slave  to  fate  in  faith. 
For  thus  'twas  reasoned  then :  From  faith  alone, 
And  from  opinion,  springs  all  action ;  hence. 
If  faith's  compelled,  so  is  all  action  too  : 
But  deeds  compelled  are  not  accountable ; 
So  man  is  not  amenable  to  God. 


BOOK  VIII.  193 

Arguing  that  brought  such  monstrous  birth,  though 
good 
It  seemed,  must  have  been  false.    Most  false  it  was, 
And  by  the  book  of  God  condemned,  throughout. 
We  freely  own,  that  truth,  when  set  before 
The  mind,  with  perfect  evidence,  compelled 
Belief;  but  error  lacked  such  witness,  still: 
And  none,  who  now  lament  in  moral  night, 
The  word  of  God  refused  on  evidence 
That  might  not  have  been  set  aside  as  false. 
To  reason,  try,  choose,  and  reject,  was  free.  ^ 

Hence  God,  by  faith,  acquitted,  or  condemned ; 
Hence  righteous  men,  with  liberty  of  will. 
Believed  ;  and  hence  thou  sawst  in  Erebus 
The  wicked,  who  as  freely  disbelieved 
What  else  had  led  them  to  the  land  of  life. 
17 


THE 


COURSE   OF  TIME. 


BOOK  IX. 


Fairest  of  those  that  left  the  calm  of  heaven, 

And  ventured  down  to  man,  with  words  of  peace, 

Daughter  of  Grace  !  known  by  whatever  name, 

Religion,  Virtue,  Piety,  or  Love 

Of  Holiness,  the  day  of  thy  reward 

Was  come.     Ah  !  thou  wast  long  despised,  despised 

By  those  thou  wooedst  from  death  to  endless  life. 

Modest  and  meek,  in  garments  white  as  those 

That  seraphs  wear,  and  countenance  as  mild 

As  Mercy  looking  on  Repentance'  tear ; 

With  eye  of  purity,  now  darted  up 

To  God's  eternal  throne,  now  humbly  bent 

Upon  thyself,  and,  weeping  down  thy  cheek, 

That  glowed  with  universal  love  immense, 

A  tear,  pure  as  the  dews  that  fall  in  heaven ; 

In  thy  left  hand,  the  olive  branch,  and  in 

Thy  right,  the  crown  of  immortality  ; — 

With  noiseless  foot,  thou  walkedst  the  vales  of  earth, 

Beseeching  men,  from  age  to  age,  to  turn 

From  utter  death,  to  turn  from  wo  to  bliss  ; 

Beseeching  evermore,  and  evermore 

Despised — not  evermore  despised,  not  now. 

Not  at  the  day  of  doom  ;  most  lovely  then, 

Most  honourable,  thou  appeared,  and  most 


196  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME, 

To  be  desired.    The  guilty  heard  the  song 
Of  thy  redeemed,  how  loud  !  and  saw  thy  face 
How  fair  !     Alas  !  it  was  too  late  !  the  hour 
Of  making  friends  was  passed,  thy  favour  then 
.    Might  not  be  sought ;  but  recollection,  sad 
And  accurate,  as  miser  counting  o'er 
And  o'er  again  the  sum  he  must  lay  out, 
Distinctly  in  the  wicked's  ear  rehearsed 
Each  opportunity  despised  and  lost. 
While  on  them  gleamed  thy  holy  look,  that  like 
A  fiery  torrent  went  into  their  souls. 
The  day  of  thy  reward  was  come,  the  day 
Of  great  remuneration  to  thy  friends, 
To  those,  known  by  whatever  name,  who  sought, 
In  every  place,  in  every  time,  to  do 
Unfeignedly  their  Maker's  will,  revealed, 
Or  gathered  else  from  nature's  school ;  well  pleased 
With  God's  applause  alone,  that,  like  a  stream 
Of  sweetest  melody,  at  still  of  night 
By  wanderer  heard,  in  their  most  secret  ear 
For  ever  whispered.  Peace  ;  and,  as  a  string 
Of  kindred  tone  awoke,  their  inmost  soul 
Responsive  answered,  Peace  ;  inquiring  still 
And  searching,  night  and  day,  to  know  their  duty, 
When  known,  with  undisputing  trust,  with  love 
Unquenchable,  with  zeal,  by  reason's  lamp 
Inflamed, — performing  ;  and  to  Him,  by  whose 
Profound,  all -calculating  skill  alone, 
Results — results  even  of  the  slightest  act, 
Are  fully  grasped,  with  unsuspicious  faith, 
All  consequences  leaving  ;  to  abound, 
Or  want,  alike  prepared ;  who  knew  to  be 
Exalted  how,  and  how  to  be  abased  ; 
How  best  to  live,  and  how  to  die  when  asked. 
Their  prayers  sincere,  their  alms  in  secret  done, 
Their  fightings  with  themselves,  their  abstinence 
From  pleasure,  though  by  mortal  eye  unseen, 
Their  hearts  of  resignation  to  the  will 


BOOK  IX.  197 

Of  Heaven,  their  patient  bearing  of  reproach 

And  shame,  their  charity,  and  faith,  and  hope, — 

Thou  didst  remember,  and  in  full  repaid. 

No  bankrupt  thou,  who,  at  the  bargained  hour 

Of  payment  due,  sent  to  his  creditors 

A  tale  of  losses  and  mischances,  long. 

Ensured  by  God  himself,  and  from  the  stores 

And  treasures  of  his  wealth,  at  will  supplied, — 

Religion,  thou  alone,  of  all  that  men, 

On  earth,  gave  credit,  to  be  reimbursed  -^ 

On  the  other  side  the  grave,  didst  keep  thy  word, 

Thy  day,  and  all  thy  promises  fulfilled. 

As  in  the  mind,  rich  with  unborrowed  wealth, 
Where  multitudes  of  thoughts  for  utterance  strive, 
And  all  so  fair,  that  each  seems  worthy  first 
To  enter  on  the  tongue,  and  from  the  lips 
Have  passage  forth, — selection  hesitates 
Perplexed,  and  loses  time,  anxious,  since  all 
Cannot  be  taken,  to  take  the  best ;  and  yet 
Afraid,  lest  what  he  left  be  worthier  still ; 
And  grieving  much,  where  all  so  goodly  look, 
To  leave  rejected  one,  or  in  the  rear 
Let  any  be  obscured :  so  did  the  bard, 
Though  not  unskilled,  as  on  that  multitude 
Of  men  who  once  awoke  to  judgment,  he 
Threw  back  reflection,  hesitating  pause. 
For  as  his  harp,  in  tone  severe,  had  sung 
What  figure  the'  most  famous  sinners  made, 
When  from  the  grave  they  rose  unmasked ;  so  did 
He  wish  to  character  the  good  ;  but  yet. 
Among  so  many,  glorious  all,  all  worth 
Immortal  fame,  with  whom  beflrin,  with  whom 
To  end,  was  difllcult  to  choose  ;  and  long 
His  auditors,  upon  the  tiptoe  raised 
Of  expectation,  might  have  kept,  had  not 
His  eye — for  so  it  is  in  heaven,  that  what 
Is  needed  always  is  at  hand — ^beheld, 
1.7* 


198  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

That  moment,  on  a  mountain  near  the  throne 
Of  God,  the  most  renowned  of  the  redeemed, 
Rejoicing  :  nor  who  first,  who  most,  to  praise. 
Debated  more  ;  but  thus,  with  sweeter  note, 
Well  pleased  to  sing,  with  highest  eulogy. 
And  first,  whom  God  applauded  most, — began. 

With  patient  ear,   thou    now   hast    heard, — though 
whiles. 
Aside  digressing,  ancient  feeling  turned 
My  lyre, — what  shame  the  wicked  had,  that  day, 
What  wailing,  what  remorse  ;  so  hear,  in  brief. 
How  bold  the  righteous  stood,  the  men  redeemed, 
How  fair  in  virtue,  and  in  hope  how  glad  ! 
And  first  among  the  holy  shone,  as  best 
Became,  the  faithful  minister  of  God. 

See  where  he  walks  on  yonder  mount  that  lifts 
Its  summit  high,  on  the  right  hand  of  bliss, 
Sublime  in  glory,  talking  with  his  peers 
Of  the  incarnate  Saviour's  love,  and  passed 
Affliction  lost  in  present  joy  !  See  how 
His  face  with  heavenly  ardour  glows,  and  how 
His  hand,  enraptured,  strikes  the  golden  lyre  ! 
As  now,  conversing  of  the  Lamb,  once  slain, 
He  speaks  ;  and  now,  from  vines  that  never  hear 
Of  winter,  but  in  monthly  harvest  yield 
Their  fruit  abundantly,  he  plucks  the  grapes 
Of  life  !  But  what  he  was  on  earth  it  most 
Behoves  to  say.     Elect  by  God  himself. 
Anointed  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  set 
Apart  to  the  great  work  of  saving  men ; 
Instructed  fully  in  the  will  divine. 
Supplied  with  grace  in  store,  as  need  might  ask, 
And  with  the  stamp  and  signature  of  heaven, 
Truth,  mercy,  patience,  holiness,  and  love. 
Accredited  ; — he  was  a  man,  by  God, 
The  Lord,  commissioned  to  make  known  to  men 


BOOK  IX.  199 

The  eternal  counsels  ;  in  his  Master's  name, 

To  treat  with  them  of  everlasting  things, 

Of  Ufe,  death,  bliss,  and  wo  )  to  offer  terms 

Of  pardon,  grace,  and  peace,  to  the  rebelled  ; 

To  teach  the  ignorant  soul,  to  cheer  the  sad ; 

To  bind,  to  loose,  with  all  authority; 

To  give  the  feeble  strength,  the  hopeless  hope, 

To  help  the  halting,  and  to  lead  the  blind ; 

To  warn  the  careless,  heal  the  sick  of  heart, 

Arouse  the  indolent,  and  on  the  proud 

And  obstinate  offender  to  denounce 

The  wrath  of  God.     All  other  men,  what  name 

Soe'er  they  bore,  whatever  office  held, 

If  lawful  held, — the  magistrate  supreme, 

Or  else  subordinate,  were  chosen  by  men, 

Their  fellows,  and  from  men  derived  their  power. 

And  were  accountable,  for  all  they  did, 

To  men;  but  he,  alone,  his  office  held 

Immediately  from  God,  from  God  received 

Authority,  and  was  to  none  but  God 

Amenable.     The  elders  of  the  church, 

Indeed,  upon  him  laid  their  hands,  and  set 

Him  visibly  apart  to  preach  the  word 

Of  life  ;  but  this  was  merely  outward  rite 

And  decent  ceremonial,  performed 

On  all  alike  ;  and  ofl,  as  thou  hast  heard, 

Performed  on  those  God  never  sent ;  his  call. 

His  consecration,  his  anointing,  all 

Were  inward,  in  the  conscience  heard  and  felt. 

Thus,  by  Jehovah  chosen,  and  ordained 

To  take  into  his  charge  the  souls  of  men, 

And  for  his  trust  to  answer  at  the  day 

Of  judgment, — great  plenipotent  of  heaven. 

And  representative  of  God  on  earth, — 

Fearless  of  men  and  devils;  unabashed 

By  sin  enthroned,  or  mockery  of  a  prince, 

Unawed  by  armed  legions,  unseduced 

By  offered  bribes,  burning  with  love  to  souls, 


200  THE  COURSE    OF  TIME. 

Unquenchable,  and  mindful  still  of  his 

Great  charge  and  vast  responsibility  ; — 

High  in  the  temple  of  the  living  God, 

He  stood,  amidst  the  people,  and  declared 

Aloud  the  truth,  the  whole  revealed  truth, 

Ready  to  seal  it  with  his  blood.     Divine 

Resemblance  most  complete  !  with  mercy  now 

And  love,  his  face,  illumed,  shone  gloriously  ; 

And  frowning  now  indignantly,  it  seemed 

As  if  offended  Justice,  from  his  eye. 

Streamed  forth  vindictive  wrath  !     Men  heard,  alarmed. 

The  uncircumcised  infidel  believed ; 

Light-thoughted  Mirth  grew  serious,  and  wept ; 

The  laugh  profane  sunk  in  a  sigh  of  deep 

Repentance,  the  blasphemer,  kneeling,  prayed, 

And,  prostrate  in  the  dust,  for  mercy  called; 

And  cursed,  old,  forsaken  sinners  gnashed 

Their  teeth,  as  if  their  hour  had  been  arrived. 

Such  was  his  calling,  his  commission  such. 

Yet  he  was  humble,  kind,  forgiving,  meek, 

Easy  to  be  entreated,  gracious,  mild  \ 

And,  with  all  patience  and  affection,  taught, 

Rebuked,  persuaded,  solaced,  counselled,  warned, 

In  fervent  style  and  manner.     Needy,  poor. 

And  dying  men,  like  music,  heard  his  feet 

Approach  their  beds  ;  and  guilty  wretches  took 

New  hope,  and  in  his  prayers  wept  and  smiled. 

And  blessed  him,  as  they  died  forgiven ;  and  all 

Saw  in  his  face  contentment,  in  his  life. 

The  path  to  glory  and  perpetual  joy. 

Deep-learned  in  the  philosophy  of  heaven. 

He  searched  the  causes  out  of  good  and  ill. 

Profoundly  calculating  their  effects 

Far  past  the  bounds  of  Time ;  and  balancing. 

In  the  arithmetic  of  future  things, 

The  loss  and  profit  of  the  soul  to  all 

Eternity.     A  skilful  workman  he 

In  God's  great  moral  vineyard  :  what  to  prune 


BOOK   IX.  201 

With  cautious  hand  he  knew,  what  to  uproot ; 
What  were  mere  weeds,  and  what  celestial  plants 
Which  had  unfading  vigour  in  them,  knew  ; 
Nor  knew  alone,  but  watched  them  night  and  day, 
And  reared  and  nourished  them,  till  fit  to  be 
Transplanted  to  the  Paradise  above. 

Oh  !  who  can  speak  his  praise  !  great,  humble  man ! 
He  in  the  current  of  destruction  stood 
And  warned  the  sinner  of  his  wo  ;  led  on 
Immanuel's  members  in  the  evil  day ; 
And,  with  the  everlasting  arms  embraced 
Himself  around,  stood  in  the  dreadful  front 
Of  battle,  high,  and  warred  victoriously 
With  death  and  hell.    And  now  was  come  his  rest, 
His  triumph  day.     Illustrious  like  a  sun, 
In  that  assembly,  he,  shining  from  far, 
Most  excellent  in  glory,  stood  assured, 
Waiting  the  promised  crown,  the  promised  throne, 
The  welcome  and  approval  of  his  Lord. 
Nor  one  alone,  but  many — prophets,  priests, 
Apostles,  great  reformers,  all  that  served 
Messiah  faithfully,  like  stars  appeared 
Of  fairest  beam  ;  and  round  them  gathered,  clad 
In  white,  the  vouchers  of  their  ministry — 
The  flock  their  care  had  nourished,  fed,  and  saved. 

Nor  yet  in  common  glory  blazing,  stood 
The  true  philosopher,  decided  friend 
Of  truth  and  man.     Determined  foe  of  all 
Deception,  calm,  collected,  patient,  wise, 
And  humble,  undeceived  by  outward  shape 
Of  things,  by  fashion's  revelry  uncharmed, 
By  honour  unbe witched, — he  left  the  chase 
Of  vanity,  and  all  the  quackeries 
Of  life,  to  fools  and  heroes,  or  whoe'er 
Desired  them ;  and  with  reason,  much  despised. 
Traduced,  yet  heavenly  reason,  to  the  shade 


202^  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Retired — retired,  but  not  to  dream,  or  build 
Of  ghostly  fancies,  seen  in  the  deep  noon 
Of  sleep,  ill-balanced  theories  ;  retired. 
But  did  not  leave  mankind  ;  in  pity,  not 
In  wrath,  retired ;  and  still,  though  distant,  kept 
His  eye  on  men  ;  at  proper  angle  took 
His  stand  to  see  them  better,  and,  beyond 
The  clamour  which  the  bells  of  folly  made. 
That  most  had  hung  about  them,  to  consult 
With  nature,  how  their  madness  might  be  cured, 
And  how  their  true  substantial  comforts  might 
Be  multiplied.     Religious  man  !  what  God 
By  prophets,  priests,  evangelists,  revealed 
Of  sacred  truth,  he  thankfully  received, 
And,  by  its  light  directed,  went  in  search 
Of  more.     Before  him,  darkness  fled  ;  and  all 
The  goblin  tribe,  that  hung  upon  the  breasts 
Of  Night,  and  haunted  still  the  moral  gloom 
With  shapeless  forms,  and  blue,  infernal  lights, 
And  indistinct,  and  devilish  whisperings, 
That  the  miseducated  fancies  vexed 
Of  superstitious  men, — at  his  approach, 
Dispersed,  invisible.     Where'er  he  went, 
This  lesson  still  he  taught,  To  fear  no  ill 
But  sin,  no  being  but  Almighty  God. 
All-comprehending  sage  !  too  hard  alone 
For  him  was  man's  salvation  ;  all  besides, 
Of  use  or  comfort,  that  distinction  made 
Between  the  desperate  savage,  scarcely  raised 
Above  the  beast  whose  flesh  he  ate,  undressed. 
And  the  most  polished  of  the  human  race. 
Was  product  of  his  persevering  search. 
Religion  owed  him  much,  as  from  the  false 
She  suffered  much  ;  for  still  his  main  design. 
In  all  his  contemplations,  was  to  trace 
The  wisdom,  providence,  and  love  of  God, 
And  to  his  fellows,  less  observant,  show 
Them  forth.    From  prejudice  redeemed,  with  all 


BOOK  IX.  203 

His  passions  still,  above  the  common  world, 

Sublime  in  reason  and  in  aim  sublime, 

He  sat,  and  on  the  marvellous  works  of  God 

Sedately  thought ;  now  glancing  up  his  eye. 

Intelligent,  through  all  the  starry  dance, 

And  penetrating  now  the  deep  remote 

Of  central  causes  in  the  womb  opaque 

Of  matter  hid;  now  with  inspection  nice, 

Entering  the  mystic  labyrinths  of  the  mind. 

Where  thought,  of  notice  ever  shy,  behind 

Thought,  disappearing,  still  retired  ;  and  still. 

Thought    meeting   thought,   and    thought    awakening 

thought, 
And  mingling  still  with  thought  in  endless  maze, — 
Bewildered  observation  ;  now,  with  eye 
Yet  more  severely  purged,  looking  far  down 
Into  the  heart,  where  passion  wove  a  web 
Of  thousand  thousand  threads,  in  grain  and  hue 
All  different ;  then,  upward  venturing  whiles. 
But  reverently,  and  in  his  hand,  the  light 
Revealed,  near  the  eternal  Throne,  he  gazed, 
Philosophizing  less  than  worshipping. 
Most  truly  great !  his  intellectual  strength 
And  knowledge  vast,  to  men  of  lesser  mind, 
Seemed  infinite  ;  yet,  from  his  high  pursuits, 
And  reasonings  most  profound,  he  still  returned 
Home,  with  an  humbler  and  a  warmer  heart : 
And  none  so  lowly  bowed  before  his  God, 
As  none  so  well  His  awful  majesty 
And  goodness  comprehended  ;  or  so  well 
His  own  dependency  and  weakness  knew. 

How  glorious  now,  with  vision  purified 
At  the  Essential  Truth,  entirely  free 
From  error,  he,  investigating  still, — 
For  knowledge  is  not  found,  unsought,  in  heaven,— 
From  world  to  world,  at  pleasure,  roves,  on  wing 
Of  golden  ray  upborne ;  or,  at  the  feet 


204  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Of  heaven's  most  ancient  sages,  sitting,  hears 
New  wonders  of  the  wondrous  works  of  God ! 

Illustrious  too,  that  morning,  stood  the  man 
Exalted  by  the  people,  to  the  throne 
Of  government,  established  on  the  base 
Of  justice,  liberty,  and  equal  right ; 
Who,  in  his  countenance  sublime,  expressed 
A  nation's  majesty,  and  yet  was  meek 
And  humble ;  and  in  royal  palace  gave 
Example  to  the  meanest,  of  the  fear 
Of  God,  and  all  integrity  of  life 
And  manners  ;  who,  august,  yet  lowly  ;  who, 
Severe,  yet  gracious  ;  in  his  very  heart, 
Detesting  all  oppression,  all  intent 
Of  private  aggrandizement ;  and,  the  first 
In  every  public  duty,  held  the  scales 
Of  justice,  and  as  the  law,  which  reigned  in  him, 
Commanded,  gave  rewards  ;  or,  with  the  edge 
Vindictive,  smote,  now  light,  now  heavily, 
According  to  the  stature  of  the  crime. 
Conspicuous  like  an  oak  of  healthiest  bough, 
Deep-rooted  in  his  country's  love,  he  stood. 
And  gave  his  hand  to  Virtue,  helping  up 
The  honest  man  to  honour  and  renown  ; 
And,  with  the  look  which  goodness  wears  in  wrath, 
Withering  the  very  blood  of  Knavery, 
And  from  his  presence  driving  far,  ashamed. 

Nor  less  remarkable,  among  the  blessed, 
Appeared  the  man,  who,  in  the  senate-house, 
Watchful,  unhired,  unbribed,  and  uncorrupt, 
And  party  only  to  the  common  weal. 
In  virtue's  awful  rage,  pleaded  for  right, 
With  truth  so  clear,  with  argument  so  strong, 
With  action  so  sincere,  and  tone  so  loud 
And  deep,  as  made  the  despot  quake  behind 
His  adamantine  gates,  and  every  joint, 


BOOK  IX.  205 

In  terror,  smite  his  fellow-joint  relaxed  j 

Or,  marching  to  the  field,  in  burnished  steel, 

While,  frowning  on  his  brow,  tremendous  hung 

The  wrath  of  a  whole  people,  long  provoked, — 

Mustered  the  stormy  wings  of  war,  in  day 

Of  dreadful  deeds ;  and  led  the  battle  on. 

When  Liberty,  swift  as  the  fires  of  heaven, 

In  fury  rode,  with  all  her  hosts,  and  threw 

The  tyrant  down,  or  drove  invasion  back. 

Illustrious  he — illustrious  all  appeared, 

Who  ruled  supreme  in  righteousness  j  or  held 

Inferior  place,  in  steadfast  rectitude 

Of  soul.     Peculiarly  severe  had  been 

The  nurture  of  their  youth,  their  knowledge  great, 

Great  was  their  wisdom,  great  their  cares,  and  great 

Their  self-denial,  and  their  service  done 

To  God  and  man  ;  and  great  was  their  reward, 

At  hand,  proportioned  to  their  worthy  deeds. 

Breathe  all  thy  minstrelsy,  immortal  Harp  ! 
Breathe  numbers  warm  with  love,  while  I  rehearse — 
Delighted  theme,  resembling  most  the  songs 
Which,  day  and  night,  are  sung  before  the  Lamb  !- 
Thy  praise,  O  Charity  !  thy  labours  most 
Divine  ;   thy  sympathy  with  sighs,  and  tears. 
And  groans  ;  thy  great,  thy  god-like  wish,  to  heal 
All  misery,  all  fortune's  wounds,  and  make 
The  soul  of  every  living  thing  rejoice. 
O  thou  wast  needed  much  in  days  of  Time  I 
No  virtue,  half  so  much ! — None  half  so  fair  ! 
To  all  the  rest,  however  fine,  thou  gavest 
A  finishing  and  polish,  without  which 
No  man  e'er  entered  heaven.     Let  me  record 
His  praise,  the  man  of  great  benevolence, 
Who  pressea  thee  closely  to  his  glowing  heart, 
And  to  thy  gentle  bidding  made  his  feet 
Swift  minister.     Of  all  mankind,  his  soul 
Was  most  in  harmony  with  heaven :  as  one 
18 


206  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Sole  family  of  brothers,  sisters,  friends, 

One  in  their  origin,  one  in  their  rights 

To  all  the  common  gifts  of  providence, 

And  in  their  hopes,  their  joys,  and  sorrows  one, 

He  viewed  the  universal  human  race. 

He  needed  not  a  law  of  state,  to  force 

Grudging  submission  to  the  law  of  God. 

The  law  of  love  was  in  his  heart,  alive ', 

What  he  possessed,  he  counted  not  his  own  j 

But,  like  a  faithful  steward  in  a  house 

Of  public  alms,  what  freely  he  received 

He  freely  gave,  distributing  to  all 

The  helpless  the  last  mite  beyond  his  own 

Temperate  support,  and  reckoning  still  the  gift 

But  justice,  due  to  want ;  and  so  it  was. 

Although  the  world,  with  compliment  not  ill 

Applied,  adorned  it  with  a  fairer  name. 

Nor  did  he  wait  till  to  his  door  the  voice 

Of  supplication  came,  but  went  abroad, 

With  foot  as  silent  as  the  starry  dews, 

In  search  of  misery  that  pined  unseen. 

And  would  not  ask.     And  who  can  tell  what  sights 

He  saw !  what  groans  he  heard,  in  that  cold  world 

Below  !  where  Sin,  in  league  with  gloomy  Death, 

Marched  daily  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  all 

The  land,  wasting  at  will,  and  making  earth, 

Fair  earth  !  a  lazar-house,  a  dungeon  dark. 

Where  Disappointment  fed  on  ruined  Hope, 

Where  Guilt,  worn  out,  leaned  on  the  triple  edge 

Of  want,  remorse,  despair  ;  where  Cruelty 

Reached  forth  a  cup  of  wormwood  to  the  lips 

Of  Sorrow,  that  to  deeper  Sorrow  wailed ; 

Where  Mockery,  and  Disease,  and  Poverty, 

Met  miserable  Age,  erewhile  sore  bent 

With  his  own  burden  ;  where  the  arrowy  winds 

Of  winter  pierced  the  naked  orphan  babe. 

And  chilled  the  mother's  heart,  who  had  no  home ; 

And  where,  alas  !  in  mid-time  of  his  day, 


20t 


The  honest  man,  robbed  by  some  villain's  hand, 

Or  with  long  sickness  pale,  and  paler  yet 

With  want  and  hunger,  oft  drank  bitter  draughts 

Of  his  own  tears,  and  had  no  bread  to  eat. 

Oh !  who  can  tell  what  sights  he  saw,  what  shapes 

Of  wretchedness  !  or  who  describe  what  smiles 

Of  gratitude  illumined  the  face  of  wo, 

While  from  his  hand  he  gave  the  bounty  forth  ! 

As  when  the  Sun,  to  Cancer  wheeling  back, 

Returned  from  Capricorn,  and  showed  the  north, 

That  long  had  lain  in  cold  and  cheerless  night, 

His  beamy  countenance  ;  all  nature  then 

Rejoiced  together  glad ;  the  flower  looked  up 

And  smiled  ;  the  forest,  from  his  locks,  shook  off 

The  hoary  frosts,  and  clapped  his  hands ;  the  birds 

Awoke,  and,  singing,  rose  to  meet  the  day ; 

And  from  his  hollow  den,  where  many  months 

He  slumbered  sad  in  darkness,  blithe  and  light 

Of  heart  the  savage  sprung,  and  saw  again 

His  mountains  shine,  and  with  new  songs  of  love 

Allured  the  virgin's  ear  :  so  did  the  house, 

The  prison-house  of  guilt,  and  all  the  abodes 

Of  unprovided  helplessness,  revive, 

As  on  them  looked  the  sunny  messenger 

Of  Charity.     By  angels  tended  still. 

That  marked  his  deeds,  and  wrote  them  in  the  book 

Of  God's  remembrance  ;  careless  he  to  be 

Observed  of  men,  or  have  each  mite  bestowed 

Recorded  punctually,  with  name  and  place, 

In  every  bill  of  news.     Pleased  to  do  good. 

He  gave,  and  sought  no  more,  nor  questioned  much 

Nor  reasoned,  who  deserved  ;  for  well  he  knew 

The  face  of  need.     Ah  me  !  who  could  mistake  ? 

The  shame  to  ask,  the  want  that  urged  within. 

Composed  a  look  so  perfectly  distinct 

From  all  else  human,  and  withal  so  full 

Of  misery,  that  none  could  pass,  untouched, 

And  be  a  Christian,  or  thereafter  claim, 


208  THE    COURSE    OP    TIME. 

In  any  form,  the  name  or  rights  of  man, 

Or,  at  the  day  of  judgment,  lift  his  eye  ; 

While  he,  in  name  of  Christ,  who  gave  the  poor 

A  cup  of  water,  or  a  bit  of  bread. 

Impatient  for  his  advent,  waiting  stood, 

Glowing  in  robes  of  love  and  holiness. 

Heaven's  fairest  dress  !  and  round  him  ranged,  in  white, 

A  thousand  witnesses  appeared,  prepared 

To  tell  his  gracious  deeds  before  the  Throne. 

Nor  unrenowned  among  the  most  renowned, 
Nor  'mong  the  fairest  unadmired,  that  morn. 
When  highest  fame  was  proof  of  highest  worth, 
Distinguished  stood  the  bard  :  not  he,  who  sold 
The  incommunicable,  heavenly  gift, 
To  Folly,  and  with  lyre  of  perfect  tone, 
Prepared  by  God  himself,  for  holiest  praise, — 
Vilest  of  traitors  !  most  dishonest  man  ! — 
Sat  by  the  door  of  Ruin,  and  made  there 
A  melody  so  sweet,  and  in  the  mouth 
Of  drunkenness  and  debauch,  that  else  had  croaked 
In  natural  discordance  jarring  harsh. 
Put  so  divine  a  song,  that  many  turned 
Aside,  and  entered  in  undone,  and  thought, 
Meanwhile,  it  was  the  gate  of  heaven,  so  like 
An  angel's  voice  the  music  seemed  ;  nor  he, 
Who,  whining  grievously  of  damsel  coy, 
Or  blaming  fortune,  that  would  nothing  give 
For  doing  naught,  in  indolent  lament 
Unprofitable,  passed  his  piteous  days. 
Making  himself  the  hero  of  his  tale, 
Deserving  ill  the  poet's  name  :  but  he, 
The  bard,  by  God's  own  hand  anointed,  who, 
To  Virtue's  all-delighting  harmony. 
His  numbers  tuned :  v  ho,  from  the  fount  of  truth, 
Poured  melody,  and  beauty  poured,  and  love, 
In  holy  stream,  into  the  human  heart ; 
And,  from  the  height  of  lofty  argument, 


BOOK  IX.  209 

Who  "  justified  the  ways  of  God  to  man," 
And  sung  what  still  he  sings,  approved,  in  heaven ; 
Though  now  with  bolder  note,  above  the  damp 
Terrestrial,  which  the  pure  celestial  fire 
Cooled,  and  restrained  in  part  his  flaming  wing. 

Philosophy  was  deemed  of  deeper  thought, 
And  judgment  more  severe,  than  Poetry  ; 
To  fable,  she,  and  fancy,  more  inclined. 
And  yet,  if  Fancy,  as  was  understood, 
Was  of  creative  nature,  or  of  power, 
With  self- wrought  stuff,  to  build  a  fabric  up, 
To  mortal  vision  wonderful  and  strange, 
Philosophy,  the  theoretic,  claimed, 
Undoubtedly,  the  first  and  highest  place 
In  Fancy's  favour.     Her  material  souls. 
Her  chance,  her  atoms  shaped  alike,  her  white 
Proved  black,  her  universal  nothing,  all ; 
And  all  her  wondrous  systems,  how  the  mind 
With  matter  met  ;  how  man  was  free,  and  yet 
All  pre-ordained  ;  how  evil  first  began  ; 
And  chief,  her  speculations,  soaring  high, 
Of  ihe  eternal,  uncreated  Mind, 
W^hich  left  all  reason  infinitely  far 
Behind — surprising  feat  of  theory ! — 
Were  pure  creation  of  her  own,  w^ebs  wove 
Of  gossamer  in  Fancy's  lightest  loom. 
And  no  where,  on  the  list  of  being  made 
By  God,  recorded :  but  her  look,  meanwhile. 
Was  grave  and  studious ;  and  many  thought 
She  reasoned  deeply,  when  she  wildly  raved. 

The  true,  legitimate,  anointed  bard. 
Whose  song  through  ages  poured  its  melody, 
Was  most  severely  thoughtful,  most  minute 
And  accurate  of  observation,  most 
Familiarly  acquainted  with  all  modes 
And  phases  of  existence.     True,  no  doubt, 
18* 


210  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

He  had  originally  drunk,  from  out 

The  fount  of  hfe  and  love,  a  double  draught, 

That  gave  whate'er  he  touched  a  double  life  : 

But  this  was  mere  desire  at  first,  and  power  * 

Devoid  of  means  to  work  by  ;  need  was  still 

Of  persevering,  quick,  inspective  mood 

Of  mind,  of  faithful  memory,  vastly  stored, 

From  universal  being's  ample  field, 

With  knowledge  ;  and  a  judgment,  sound  and  clear, 

Well  disciplined  in  nature's  rules  of  taste  ; 

Discerning  to  select,  arrange,  combine, 

From  infinite  variety,  and  still 

To  nature  true  ;  and  guide  withal,  hard  task, 

The  sacred,  living  impetus  divine. 

Discreetly  through  the  harmony  of  song. 

Completed  thus,  the  poet  sung  ;  and  age 

To  age,  enraptured,  heard  his  measures  flow  ; 

Enraptured,  for  he  poured  the  very  fat 

And  marrow  of  existence  through  his  verse, 

And  gave  the  soul,  that  else,  in  selfish  cold, 

Un warmed  by  kindred  interest,  had  lain, 

A  roomy  life,  a  glowing  relish  high, 

A  sweet,  expansive  brotherhood  of  being — 

Joy  answering  joy,  and  sigh  responding  sigh. 

Through  all  the  fibres  of  the  social  heart. 

Observant,  sympathetic,  sound  of  head. 

Upon  the  ocean  vast  of  human  thought. 

With  passion  rough  and  stormy,  venturing  out, 

Even  as  the  living  billows  rolled,  he  threw 

His  numbers  over  them,  seized  as  they  were, 

And  to  perpetual  ages  left  them  fixed, 

To  each,  a  mirror  of  itself  displayed  ; 

Despair  for  ever  lowering  dark  on  Sin, 

And  Happiness  on  Virtue  smiling  fair. 

He  was  the  minister  of  fame,  and  gave 
To  whom  he  would  renown ;  nor  missed  himself— 
Although  despising  much  the  idiot  roar 


ail 


Of  popular  applause,  that  sudden,  oft, 

Unnaturally  turning,  whom  it  nursed 

Itself  devoured — the  lasting  fame,  the  praise 

Of  God  and  holy  men,  to  excellence  given. 

Yet  less  he  sought  his  own  renown,  than  wished 

To  have  the  eternal  images  of  truth 

And  beauty,  pictured  in  his  verse,  admired. 

'Twas  these,  taking  immortal  shape  and  form 

Beneath  his  eye,  that  charmed  his  midnight  watch, 

And  oft  his  soul  with  awful  transports  shook 

Of  happiness,  unfelt  by  other  men. 

This  was  that  spell,  that  sorcery,  which  bound 

The  poet  to  the  lyre,  and  would  not  let 

Him  go  ;  that  hidden  mystery  of  joy, 

Which  made  him  sing  in  spite  of  fortune's  worst , 

And  was,  at  once,  both  motive  and  reward. 

Nor  now  among  the  choral  harps,  in  this 
The  native  clime  of  song,  are  those  unknown, 
With  higher  note  ascending,  who,  below, 
In  holy  ardour,  aimed  at  lofty  strains. 
True  fame  is  never  lost :  many,  whose  names 
Were  honoured  much  on  earth,  are  famous  here 
For  poetry,  and,  with  arch-angel  harps, 
Hold  no  unequal  rivalry  in  song  ; 
Leading  the  choirs  of  heaven,  in  numbers  high, 
In  numbers  ever  sweet  and  ever  new. 

Behold  them  yonder,  where  the  river  pure 
Flows  warbling  down  before  the  throne  of  God  ; 
And,  shading  on  each  side,  the  tree  of  life 
Spreads  its  unfading  boughs ! — See  how  they  shine. 
In  garments  white,  quaffing  deep  draughts  of  love, 
And  harping  on  their  harps,  new  harmonies 
Preparing  for  the  ear  of  God,  Most  High  ! 

But  why  should  I,  of  individual  worth, 
'  Of  individual  glory,  longer  sing  ? 


212  THE  COURSE  OP  TIME. 

No  true  believer  was,  that  day,  obscure  j 
No  holy  soul  but  had  enough  of  joy  ; 
No  pious  wish  without  its  full  reward. 
Who  in  the  Father  and  the  Son  believed, 
With  faith  that  wrought  by  love  to  holy  deeds, 
And  purified  the  heart,  none  trembled  there. 
Nor  had  by  earthly  guise  his  rank  concealed  ; 
Whether,  unknown,  he  tilled  the  ground  remote, 
Observant  of  the  seasons,  and  adored 
God  in  the  promise,  yearly  verified. 
Of  seed-time,  harvest,  summer,  winter,  day 
And  night,  returning  duly  at  the  time 
Appointed  ;  or,  on  the  shadowy  mountain  side, 
Worshipped  at  dewy  eve,  watching  his  flocks ; 
Or,  trading,  saw  the  wonders  of  the  deep, 
And  as  the  needle  to  the  starry  Pole 
Turned  constantly,  so  he  his  heart  to  God ; 
Or  else,  in  servitude  severe,  was  taught 
To  break  the  bonds  of  sin  ;  or,  begging,  learned 
To  trust  the  Providence  that  fed  the  raven, 
And  clothed  the  lily  with  her  annual  gown. 

Most  numerous,  indeed,  among  the  saved, 
And  many,  too,  not  least  illustrious,  shone 
The  men  who  had  no  name  on  earth.     Eclipsed 
By  lowly  circumstance,  they  lived  unknown, 
Like  stream  that  in  the  desert  warbles  clear. 
Still  nursing,  as  it  goes,  the  herb  and  flower, 
Though  never  seen  ;  or  like  the  star,  retired 
In  solitudes  of  ether,  far  beyond 
All  sight,  not  of  essential  splendour  less, 
Though  shining  unobserved.     None  saw  their  pure 
Devotion,  none  their  tears,  their  faith,  and  love. 
Which  burned  within  them,  both  to  God  and  man, — 
None  saw  but  God.     He,  in  his  bottle,  all 
Their  tears  preserved,  and  every  holy  wish 
Wrote  in  his  book  ;  and,  not  as  they  had  done, 
But  as  they  wished  with  all  their  heart  to  do. 


BOOK  IX.  2][^ 

Arrayed  them  now  in  glory,  and  displayed, — 
No  longer  hid  by  coarse,  uncourtly  garb, — 
In  lustre  equal  to  their  inward  worth. 

Man's  time  was  passed,  and  his  eternity 
Begun.     No  fear  remained  of  change.     The  youth, 
Who,  in  the  glowing  morn  of  vigorous  life, 
High-reaching  after  great  religious  deeds, 
Was  suddenly  cut  off,  with  all  his  hopes 
In  sunny  bloom,  and  unaccomplished  left 
His  withered  aims, — saw  everlasting  days, 
Before  him,  dawning  rise,  in  which  to  achieve 
All  glorious  things,  and  get  himself  the  name 
That  jealous  Death  too  soon  forbade  on  earth. 

Old  things  had  passed  away,  and  all  was  new  ; 
And  yet,  of  all  the  new-begun,  naught  so 
Prodigious  difference  made,  in  the  affairs 
And  thoughts  of  every  man,  as  certainty. 
For  doubt,  all  doubt,  was  gone,  of  every  kind  ; 
Doubt  that  ere  while,  beneath  the  lowest  base 
Of  mortal  reasonings,  deepest  laid,  crept  in. 
And  made  the  strongest,  best  cemented  towers 
Of  human  workmanship,  so  weakly  shake. 
And  to  their  lofty  tops  so  waver  still. 
That  those  who  built  them,  feared  their  sudden  fall. 
But  doubt,  all  doubt,  was  passed  ;  and,  in  its  place, 
To  every  thought  that  in  the  heart  of  man 
Was  present,  now  had  come  an  absolute, 
Unquestionable  certainty,  which  gave 
To  each  decision  of  the  mind  immense 
Importance,  raising  to  its  proper  height 
The  sequent  tide  of  passion,  whether  joy 
Or  grief.     The  good  man  knew,  in  very  truth, 
That  he  was  saved  to  all  eternity. 
And  feared  no  more  ;  the  bad  had  proof  complete, 
That  he  was  damned  for  ever ;  and  believed 


214  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Entirely,  that  on  every  wicked  soul 

Anguish  should  come,  and  wrath,  and  utter  wo. 

Knowledge  was  much  increased,  but  wisdom  more. 
The  film  of  Time,  that  still  before  the  sight 
Of  mortal  vision  danced,  and  led  the  best 
Astray,  pursuing  unsubstantial  dreams. 
Had  dropped  from  every  eye.     Men  saw  that  they     , 
Had  vexed  themselves  in  vain,  to  understand 
What  now  no  hope  to  understand  remained ; 
That  they  had  often  counted  evil  good, 
And  good  for  ill ;  laughed  when  they  should  have  wept , 
And  wept,  forlorn,  when  God  intended  mirth. 
But  what,  of  all  their  follies  passed,  surprised 
Them  most,  and  seemed  most  totally  insane 
And  unaccountable,  was  value  set 
On  objects  of  a  day,  was  serious  grief 
Or  joy  for  loss  or  gain  of  mortal  things. 
So  utterly  impossible  it  seemed. 
When  men  their  proper  interests  saw,  that  aught 
Of  terminable  kind,  that  aught,  which  e'er 
Could  die,  or  cease  to  be,  however  named, 
Should  make  a  human  soul — a  legal  heir 
Of  everlasting  years — rejoice  or  weep, 
In  earnest  mood ;  for  nothing  now  seemed  worth 
A  thought,  but  had  eternal  bearing  in't. 

Much  truth  had  been  assented  to  in  Time, 
Which  never,  till  this  day,  had  made  a  due 
Impression  on  the  heart.     Take  one  example. 
Early  from  heaven  it  was  revealed,  and  oft 
Repeated  in  the  world,  from  pulpits  preached. 
And  penned  and  read  in  holy  books,  that  God 
Respected  not  the  persons  of  mankind. 
Had  this  been  truly  credited  and  felt, 
The  king,  in  purple  robe,  had  owned,  indeed, 
The  beggar  for  his  brother ,;  pride  of  rank 


BOOK  IX.  216 

And  office  thawed  into  paternal  love  j 

Oppression  feared  the  day  of  equal  rights, 

Predicted  ;  covetous  extortion  kept 

In  mind  the  hou:  of  reckoning,  soon  to  come  ; 

And  bribed  injustice  thought  of  being  judged, 

When  he  should  stand,  on  equal  foot,  beside 

The  man  he  wronged,  and  surely — nay,  'tis  true, 

Most  true,  beyond  all  whispering  of  doubt, 

That  he,  who  lifted  up  the  reeking  scourge, 

Dripping  with  gore  from  the  slave's  back,  before 

He  struck  again,  had  paused,  and  seriously 

Of  that  tribunal  thought,  where  God  himself 

Should  look  him  in  the  face,  and  ask  in  wrath, 

"  Why  didst  thou  this  ?  Man  !  was  he  not  thy  brother, 

Bone  of  thy  bone,  and  flesh  and  blood  of  thine  ?" 

But,  ah  !  this  truth,  by  heaven  and  reason  taught, 

Was  never  fully  credited  on  earth. 

The  titled,  flattered,  lofty  men  of  power, 

Whose  wealth  bought  verdicts  of  applause  for  deeds 

Of  wickedness,  could  ne'er  believe  the  time 

Should  truly  come  when  judgment  should  proceed 

Impartially  against  them,  and  they,  too, 

Have  no  good  speaker  at  the  Judge's  ear. 

No  witnesses  to  bring  them  off  for  gold. 

No  power  to  turn  the  sentence  from  its  course  ; 

And  they  of  low  estate,  who  saw  themselves. 

Day  after  day,  despised,  and  wronged,  and  mocked. 

Without  radress,  could  scarcely  think  the  day 

Should  e'er  arrive,  when  they,  in  truth,  should  stand 

On  perfect  level  with  the  potentates     ,^ 

And  princes  of  the  earth,  and  have  their  cause 

Examined  fairly,  and  their  rights  allowed. 

But  now  this  truth  was  felt,  believed  and  felt, 

That  men  were  really  of  a  common  stock, 

That  no  man  ever  had  been  more  than  man. 

Much  prophecy — revealed  by  holy  bards, 
,Who  gung  the  will  of  heaven  by  Judah's  streams — 


216  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Much  prophecy,  that  waited  long,  the  scoflf 

Of  Hps  uncircumcised,  was  then  fulfilled  ; 

To  the  last  tittle  scrupulously  fulfilled. 

It  was  foretold  by  those  of  ancient  days, 

A  time  should  come,  when  wickedness  should  weep, 

Abased  ;  when  every  lofty  look  of  man 

Should  be  bowed  down,  and  all  his  haughtiness 

Made  low ;  when  righteousness  alone  should  lift 

The  head  in  glory,  and  rejoice  at  heart  j 

When  many,  first  in  splendour  and  renown, 

Should  be  most  vile  ;  and  many,  lowest  once, 

And  last  in  Poverty's  obscurest  nook. 

Highest  and  first  in  honour,  should  be  seen, 

Exalted ;  and  when  some,  when  all  the  good, 

Should  rise  to  glory  and  eternal  life  ; 

And  all  the  bad,  lamenting,  wake,  condemned 

To  shame,  contempt,  and  everlasting  grief. 

These  prophecies  had  tarried  long,  so  long 
That  many  wagged  the  head,  and,  taunting,  asked, 
"When  shall  they  come?"    but  asked  no  more,  nor 

mocked : 
For  the  reproach  of  prophecy  was  wiped 
Away,  and  every  word  of  God  found  true. 

And,  oh  !  what  change  of  state,  what  change  of  rank, 
In  that  assembly  everywhere  was  seen  ! 
The  humble-hearted  laughed,  the  lofty  mourned, 
And  every  man,  according  to  his  works 
Wrought  in  the  body,  there  took  character. 

Thus  stood  they  mixed,  all  generations  stood ! 
Of  all  mankind,  innumerable  throng ! 
Great  harvest  of  the  grave  ! — waiting  the  will 
Of  heaven,  attentively  and  silent  all. 
As  forest  spreading  out  beneath  the  calm 
Of  evening  skies,  when  even  the  single  leaf 
Is  heard  distinctly  rustle  down  and  fall ; 


BOOK  IX.  217 

So  silent  they,  when  from  above,  the  sound 
Of  rapid  wheels  approached,  and  suddenly 
In  heaven  appeared  a  host  of  angels  strong. 
With  chariots  and  with  steeds  of  burning  fire  ; 
Cherub,  and  Seraph,  Thrones,  Dominions,  Powers, 
Bright  in  celestial  armour,  dazzling,  rode. 
And,  leading  in  the  front,  illustrious  shone 
Michael  and  Gabriel,  servants  long  approved 
In  high  commission, — girt  that  day  with  power, 
Which  naught  created,  man  or  devil,  might 
Resist.     Nor  waited,  gazing,  long;  but,  quick 
Descending,  silently  and  without  song, 
As  servants  bent  to  do  their  master's  work, 
To  middle  air  they  raised  the  human  race. 
Above  the  path  long  travelled  by  the  sun ; 
And  as  a  shepherd  from  the  sheep  divides 
The  goats ;  or  husbandman,  with  reaping  bands, 
In  harvest,  separates  the  precious  wheat, 
Selected  from  the  tares  ;  so  did  they  part 
Mankind,  the  good  and  bad,  to  right  and  left. 
To  meet  no  more  ;  these  ne'er  again  to  smile. 
Nor  those  to  weep  ;  these  never  more  to  share 
Society  of  mercy  with  the  saints. 
Nor,  henceforth,  those  to  suffer  with  the  vile. 
Strange  parting  !  not  for  hours,  nor  days,  nor  months, 
Nor  for  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  years ; 
But  for  a  whole  eternity  ! — though  fit, 
And  pleasant  to  the  righteous,  yet  to  all 
Strange,  and  most  strangely  felt !    The  sire,  to  right 
Retiring,  saw  the  son — sprung  from  his  loins, 
Beloved  how  dearly  once  !  but  who  forgot. 
Too  soon,  in  sin's  intoxicating  cup, 
The  father's  warnings  and  the  mother's  tears — 
Fall  to  the  left  among  the  reprobate ; 
And  sons,  redeemed,  beheld  the  fathers,  whom 
They  loved  and  honoured  once,  gathered  among 
The  wicked.    Brothers,  sisters,  kinsmen,  firiends ; 
Husband  and  wife,  who  ate  at  the  same  board, 
19 


218  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

And  under  the  same  roof,  united,  dwelt. 

From  youth  to  hoary  age,  bearing  the  chance 

And  change  of  Time  together,  parted  then 

For  evermore.     But  none,  whose  friendship  grew 

From  virtue's  pure  and  everlasting  root. 

Took  different  roads  ;  these,  knit  in  stricter  bonds 

Of  amity,  embracing,  saw  no  more 

Death,  with  his  sithe,  stand  by  ;  nor  heard  the  word, 

The  bitter  word,  which  closed  all  earthly  friendships, 

And  finished  every  feast  of  love — Farewell. 

To  all,  strange  parting  !  to  the  wicked,  sad 

And  terrible  !     New  horror  seized  them,  while 

They  saw  the  saints  withdrawing,  and  with  them 

All  hope  of  safety,  all  delay  of  wrath. 

Beneath  a  crown  of  rosy  light, — like  that 
Which  once,  in  Goshen,  on  the  flocks,  and  herds, 
And  dwellings,  smiled,  of  Jacob,  while  the  land 
Of  Nile  was  dark  ;  or  like  the  pillar  bright 
Of  sacred  fire,  that  stood  above  the  sons 
Of  Israel,  when  they  camped  at  midnight  by 
The  foot  of  Horeb,  or  the  desert  side 
Of  Sinai ; — now,  the  righteous  took  their  place, 
Ail  took  their  place,  who  ever  wished  to  go 
To  heaven,  for  heaven's  own  sake.     Not  one  remained 
Among  the  accursed,  that  e'er  desired  with  all 
The  heart  to  be  redeemed,  that  ever  sought 
Submissively  to  do  the  will  of  God,   - 
Hovi^e'er  it  crossed  his  own  ;  or  to  escape 
Hell,  for  aught  other  than  its  penal  fires. 
All  took  their  place,  rejoicing,  and  beheld, 
In  centre  of  the  crown  of  golden  beams 
That  canopied  them  o'er,  these  gracious  words, 
Blushmg  with  tints  of  love  :  ''  Fear  not,  my  saints. 

To  other  sight  of  horrible  dismay, 
Jehovah's  ministers  the  wicked  drove, 
And  left  them  bound  immovable  in  chains 


BOOK  IX.  219 

Of  Justice.    O'er  their  heads  a  bowless  cloud 

Of  indignation  hung  ;  a  cloud  it  was 

Of  thick  and  utter  darkness,  rolling,  like 

An  ocean,  tides  of  livid,  pitchy  flame  ; 

With  thunders  charged,  and  lightnings  ruinous, 

And  red  with  forked  vengeance,  such  as  wounds 

The  soul ;  and  full  of  angry  shapes  of  wrath, 

And  eddies  whirhng  with  tumultuous  fire, 

And  forms  of  terror  raving  to  and  fro, 

And  monsters,  unimagined  heretofore 

By  guilty  men  in  dreams  before  their  death, 

From  horrid  to  more  horrid  changing  still. 

In  hideous  movement  through  that  stormy  gulf:  ' 

And  evermore  the  Thunders,  murmuring,  spoke 

From  out  the  darkness,  uttering  loud  these  words, 

Which  every  guilty  conscience  echoed  back  : 

*'  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not." 

Dread  words  !  that  barred  excuse,  and  threw  the  weight 

Of  every  man's  perdition,  on  himself. 

Directly  home.     Dread  words  !  heard  then,  and  heard 

For  ever  through  the  wastes  of  Erebus. 

^'  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not !" 

These  were  the  words  which  glowed  upon  the  sword, 

Whose  wrath  burned  fearfully  behind  the  cursed, 

As  they  were  driven  away  from  God  to  Tophet. 

*'  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not !" 

These  are  the  words  to  which  the  harps  of  grief 

Are  strung )  and,  to  the  chorus  of  the  damned, 

The  rocks  of  hell  repeat  them,  evermore  ; 

Loud  echoed  through  the  caverns  of  despair, 

And  poured  in  thunder  on  the  ear  of  Wo. 

Nor  ruined  men  alone,  beneath  that  cloud, 
Trembled.     There,  Satan  and  his  legions  stood, 
Satan,  the  first  and  eldest  sinner, — ^bound 
For  judgment.     He,  by  other  name,  held  once 
Conspicuous  rank  in  heaven  among  the  sons 
Of  happiness,  rejoicing,  day  and  night 


220  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

But  pride,  that  was  ashamed  to  bow  to  God, 
Most  High,  his  bosom  filled  with  hate,  his  face 
Made  black  with  envy,  and  in  his  soul  begot 
Thoughts  guilty  of  rebellion  'gainst  the  throne 
Of  the  Eternal  Father  and  the  Son, — 
From  everlasting  built  on  righteousness. 

Ask  not  how  pride,  in  one  created  pure. 
Could  grow ;  or  sin  without  example  spring, 
Where  holiness  alone  was  sown  :  esteem't 
Enough,  that  he,  as  every  being  made 
By  God,  was  made  entirely  holy,  had 
The  will  of  God  before  him  set  for  law 
And  regulation  of  his  life,  and  power 
To  do  as  bid  ;  but  was,  meantime,  left  free. 
To  prove  his  worth,  his  gratitude,  his  love; 
How  proved  besides  ?  for  how  could  service  done, 
That  might  not  else  have  been  withheld,  evince 
The  will  to  serve,  which,  rather  than  the  deed, 
God  doth  require,  and  virtue  counts  alone  ? 
To  stand  or  fall,  to  do  or  leave  undone, 
Is  reason's  lofty  privilege,  denied 
To  all  below,  by  instinct  bound  to  fate, 
Unmeriting,  alike,  reward  or  blame. 

Thus  free,  the  Devil  chose  to  disobey 
The  will  of  God,  and  was  thrown  out  from  heaven, 
And  with  him  all  his  bad  example  stained  : 
Yet  not  to  utter  punishment  decreed. 
But  left  to  fill  the  measure  of  his  sin. 
In  tempting  and  seducing  man — too  soon, 
Too  easily  seduced  !     And,  from  the  day 
He  first  set  foot  on  earth, — of  rancour  full, 
And  pride,  and  hate,  and  malice,  and  revenge, — 
He  set  himself,  with  most  felonious  aim 
And  hellish  perseverance,  to  root  out 
All  good,  and  in  its  place  to  plant  all  ill ; 
To  rub  and  raze,  from  all  created  things, 


BOOK  IX.  221 

The  fair  and  holy  portraiture  divine, 

And  on  them  to  enstamp  his  features  grrni ; 

To  draw  all  creatures  off  from  loyalty 

To  their  Creator,  and  to  make  them  bow 

The  knee  to  him.     Nor  failed  of  great  success, 

As  populous  hell,  this  day,  can  testify. 

He  held,  indeed,  large  empire  m  the  world. 

Contending  proudly  with  the  King  of  heaven. 

To  him  temples  were  built,  and  sacrifice 

Of  costly  blood  upon  his  altars  flowed  ; 

And — what  best  pleased  him,  for  in  show  he  seemed 

Then  likest  God — whole  nations,  bowing,  fell 

Before  him,  worshipping,  and  from  his  lips 

Entreated  oracles,  which  he,  by  priests, — 

For  many  were  his  priests  in  every  age, — 

Answered,  though  guessing  but  at  future  things, 

And  erring  oft,  yet  still  believed  ;  so  well 

His  ignorance,  in  ambiguous  phrase,  he  veiled. 

Nor  needs  it  wonder,  that  with  man  once  fallen, 
His  tempting  should  succeed.     Large  was  his  mind 
And  understanding ;  though  impaired  by  sin. 
Still  large  ;  and  constant  practice,  day  and  night, 
In  cunning,  guile,  and  all  hypocrisy. 
From  age  to  age,  gave  him  experience  vast 
In  sin's  dark  tactics,  such  as  boyish  man, 
,  Unarmed  by  strength  divine,  could  ill  withstand. 
And  well  he  knew  his  weaker  side  ;  and  still, 
His  lures,  with  baits  that  pleased  the  senses,  busked , 
To  his  impatient  passions  offering  terms 
Of  present  joy,  and  bribing  reason's  eye 
With  earthly  wealth,  and  honours  near  at  hand. 
Nor  failed  to  misadvise  his  future  hope 
And  faith,  by  false,  unkerneled  promises 
Of  heavens  of  sensual  gluttony  and  love. 
That  suited  best  their  grosser  appetites. 
Into  the  sinner's  heart,  who  lived  secure, 
And  feared  him  least,  he  entered  at  his  will. 
19*^ 


222  THE  COURSE  of  time. 

But  chief,  he  chose  his  residence  in  courts 

And  conclaves,  stirring  princes  up  to  acts 

Of  blood  and  tyranny  ;  and  moving  priests 

To  barter  truth,  and  swap  the  souls  of  men 

For  lusty  benefices,  and  address 

Of  lofty  sounding.     Nor  the  saints  elect. 

Who  walked  with  God,  in  virtue's  path  sublime, 

Did  he  not  sometimes  venture  to  molest ; 

In  dreams  and  moments  of  unguarded  thought, 

Suggesting  guilty  doubts  and  fears,  that  God 

Would  disappoint  their  hope  )  and  in  their  way 

Bestrewing  pleasures,  tongued  so  sweet,  and  so 

In  holy  garb  arrayed,  that  many  stooped, 

Believing  them  of  heavenly  sort,  and  fell ; 

And  to  their  high  professions,  brought  disgrace 

And  scandal ;  to  themselves,  thereafter,  long 

And  bitter  nights  of  sore  repentance,  vexed 

With  shame,  unwonted  sorrow,  and  remorse. 

And  more  they  should  have  fallen,  and  more  have  wept, 

Had  not  their  guardian  angels,  who,  by  God 

Commissioned,  stood  beside  them  in  the  hour 

Of  danger,  whether  cratl,  or  fierce  attack, 

To  Satan's  deepest  skill  opposing  skill 

More  deep,  and  to  his  strongest  arm,  an  arm 

More  strong, — upborne  them  in  their  hands,  and  filled 

Their  souls  with  all  discernment,  quick,  to  pierce 

His  stratagems  and  fairest  shows  of  sin. 

Now,  like  a  roaring  lion,  up  and  down  \ 

The  world,  destroying,  though  unseen,  he  raged  j 
And  now,  retiring  back  to  Tartarus, 
Far  back,  beneath  the  thick  of  guiltiest  dark. 
Where  night  ne'er  heard  of  day,  in  council  grim. 
He  sat  with  ministers  whose  thoughts  were  damned, 
And  there  such  plans  devised,  as,  had  not  God 
Checked  and  restrained,  had  added  earth  entire 
To  hell,  and  uninhabited  left  heaven, 
Jehovah  unadored.     Nor  unsevere, 


Even  then,  his  punishment  deserved.    The  Worm 

That  never  dies,  coiled  in  his  bosom,  gnawed 

Perpetually  ;  sin  after  sin  brought  pang 

Succeeding  pang;  and,  now  and  then,  the  bolts 

Of  Zion's  King,  vindictive,  smote  his  soul 

With  fiery  wo  to  blast  his  proud  designs ; 

And  gave  him  earnest  of  the  wrath  to  come. 

And  chief,  when,  on  the  cross,  Messiah  said, 

*'  'Tis  finished,"  did  the  edge  of  vengeance  smite 

Him  through,  and  all  his  gloomy  legions  touch 

With  new  despair.     But  yet,  to  be  the  first 

In  mischief,  to  have  armies  at  his  call, 

To  hold  dispute  with  God,  in  days  of  Time, 

His  pride  and  malice  fed,  and  bore  him  up 

Above  the  worst  of  ruin.     Still,  to  plan 

And  act  great  deeds,  though  wicked,  brought  at  least 

The  recompense  which  nature  hath  attached 

To  all  activity,  and  aim  pursued 

With  perseverance,  good,  or  bad  ;  for  as, 

By  nature's  laws,  immutable  and  just. 

Enjoyment  stops  where  indolence  begins  ; 

And  purposeless,  to-morrow  borrowing  sloth, 

Itself,  heaps  on  its  shoulders  loads  of  wo. 

Too  heavy  to  be  borne  ;  so  industry — 

To  meditate,  to  plan,  resolve,  perform. 

Which  in  itself  is  good — as  surely  brings 

Reward  of  good,  no  matter  what  be  done : 

And  such  reward  the  Devil  had,  as  long 

As  the  decrees  eternal  gave  him  space 

To  work.     But  now,  all  action  ceased ;  his  hope 

Of  doing  evil  perished  quite  ;  his  pride,  ^ 

His  courage,  failed  him  ;  and  beneath  that  cloud, 

Which  hung  its  central  terrors  o'er  his  head. 

With  all  his  angels,  he,  for  sentence,  stood, 

And  rolled  his  eyes  around,  that  uttered  guilt 

And  wo,  in  horrible  perfection  joined. 

As  he  had  been  the  chief  and  leader,  long, 

Of  the  apostate  crew  tha;  warred  with  God 


224  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  holiness ;  so  now,  among  the  bad, 

Lowest,  and  most  forlorn,  and  trembling  most, 

With  all  iniquity  deformed  and  foul, 

With  all  perdition  ruinous  and  dark. 

He  stood, — example  awful  of  the  wrath 

Of  God  !  sad  mark,  to  which  all  sin  must  fall ! — 

And  made,  on  every  side,  so  black  a  hell, 

That  spirits,  used  to  night  and  misery. 

To  distance  drew,  and  looked  another  way  ; 

And  from  their  golden  cloud,  far  off,  the  saints 

Saw  round  him  darkness  grow  more  dark,  and  heard 

The  impatient  thunderbolts,  with  deadliest  crash 

And  frequentest,  break  o'er  his  head, — the  sign 

That  Satan,  there,  the  vilest  sinner,  stood. 

Ah  me  !  what  eyes  were  there  beneath  that  cloud  ! 
Eyes  of  despair,  final  and  certain !  eyes 
That  looked,  and  looked,  and  saw,  where'er  they  looked, 
Interminable  darkness  !  utter  wo  ! 

'Twas  pitiful  to  see  the  early  flower 
Nipped  by  the  unfeeling  frost,  just  when  it  rose, 
Lovely  in  youth,  and  put  its  beauties  on. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  see  the  hopes  of  all 
The  year,  the  yellow  harvest,  made  a  heap. 
By  rains  of  judgment ;  or  by  torrents  swept. 
With  flocks  and  cattle,  down  the  raging  flood ; 
Or  scattered  by  the  winnowing  winds,  that  bore. 
Upon  their  angry  wings,  the  wrath  of  heaven. 
Sad  was  the  field,  where,  yesterday,  was  heard 
The  roar  of  war ;  and  sad  the  sight  of  maid. 
Of  mother,  widow,  sister,  daughter,  wife, 
Stooping  and  weeping  over  senseless,  cold, 
Defaced,  and  mangled  lumps  of  breathless  earth. 
Which  had  been  husbands,  fathers,  brothers,  sons. 
And  lovers,  when  that  morning's  sun  arose. 
'Twas  sad  to  see  the  wonted  seat  of  friend 
Removed  by  death  ;  and  sad  to  visit  scenes, 


BOOK  IX.  225 

When  old,  where,  in  the  smihng  morn  of  life, 
Lived  many,  who  both  knew  and  loved  us  much, 
And  they  all  gone,  dead,  or  dispersed  abroad; 
And  stranger  faces  seen  among  their  hills. 
'Twas  sad  to  see  the  little  orphan  babe 
Weeping  and  sobbing  on  its  mother's  grave. 
'TWas  pitiful  to  see  an  old,  forlorn, 
Decrepit,  withered  wretch,  unhoused,  unclad, 
Starving  to  death  with  poverty  and  cold. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  see  a  blooming  bride, 
That  promise  gave  of  many  a  happy  year, 
Touched  by  decay,  turn  pale,  and  waste,  and  die. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  hear  the  murderous  thrust 
Of  ruffian's  blade  that  sought  the  life  entire. 
'Twas  sad  to  hear  the  blood  come  gurgling  forth 
From  out  the  throat  of  the  wild  suicide. 
Sad  was  the  sight  of  widowed,  childless  age 
Weeping. — I  saw  it  once.     Wrinkled  with  time. 
And  hoary  with  the  dust  of  years,  an  old 
And  worthy  man  came  to  his  humble  roof. 
Tottering  and  slow,  and  on  the  threshold  stood. 
No  foot,  no  voice,  was  heard  within.     None  came 
To  meet  him,  where  he  oft  had  met  a  wife. 
And  sons,  and  daughters,  glad  at  his  return  ; 
None  came  to  meet  him  ;  for  that  day  had  seen 
The  old  man  lay,  within  the  narrow  house, 
The  last  of  all  his  family  ;  and  now 
He  stood  in  solitude,  in  solitude 
Wide  as  the  world  ;  for  all,  that  made  to  him 
Society,  had  fled  beyond  its  bounds. 
Wherever  strayed  his  aimless  eye,  there  lay 
The  wreck  of  some  fond  hope,  that  touched  his  soul 
With  bitter  thoughts,  and  told  him  all  was  passed. 
His  lonely  cot  was  silent,  and  he  looked 
As  if  he  could  not  enter.     On  his  staff. 
Bending,  he  leaned ;  and  from  his  weary  eye, 
Distressing  sight !  a  single  tear-drop  wept. 
None  followed,  for  the  fount  of  tears  was  dry. 


226  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

Alone  and  last,  it  fell  from  wrinkle  down 

To  wrinkle,  till  it  lost  itself,  drunk  by 

The  withered  cheek,  on  which  again  no  smile 

Should  come,  or  drop  of  tenderness  be  seen. 

This  sight  was  very  pitiful ;  but  one 

Was  sadder  still,  the  saddest  seen  in  Time  . 

A  man,  to-day,  the  glory  of  his  kind. 

In  reason  clear,  in  understanding  large. 

In  judgment  sound,  in  fancy  quick,  in  hope 

Abundant,  and  in  promise,  like  a  field 

Well  cultured,  and  refreshed  with  dews  from  God  ; 

To-morrow,  chained,  and  raving  mad,  and  whipped 

By  servile  hands  ;  sitting  on  dismal  straw. 

And  gnashing  with  his  teeth  against  the  chain, 

The  iron  chain,  that  bound  him  hand  and  foot ; 

And  trying  whiles  to  send  his  glaring  eye 

Beyond  the  wide  circumference  of  his  wo  ; 

Or,  humbling  more,  more  miserable  still. 

Giving  an  idiot  laugh  that  served  to  show 

The  blasted  scenery  of  his  horrid  face  ; 

Calling  the  straw  his  sceptre,  and  the  stone, 

On  which  he,  pinioned,  sat,  his  royal  throne. 

Poor,  poor,  poor  man  !  fallen  far  below  the  brute  ! 

His  reason  strove  in  vain  to  find  her  way, 

Lost  in  the  stormy  desert  of  his  brain ; 

And,  being  active  still,  she  wrought  all  strange, 

Fantastic,  execrable,  monstrous  things. 

AH  these  were  sad,  and  thousands  more,  that  sleep 
Forgotten  beneath  the  funeral  pall  of  Time  ; 
And  bards,  as  well  became,  bewailed  them  much, 
With  doleful  instruments  of  weeping  song. 
But  what  were  these .''     What  might  be  worse  had  in't, 
However  small,  some  grains  of  happiness  ; 
And  man  ne'er  drank  a  cup  of  earthly  sort, 
That  might  not  held  another  drop  of  gall ; 
Or,  in  his  deepest  sorrow,  laid  his  head 
Upon  a  pillow,  set  so  close  with  thorns, 


BOOK  IX.  22^ 

That  might  not  held  another  prickle  still. 

Accordingly,  the  saddest  human  look  ^ 

Had  hope  in't ;  faint,  indeed,  but  still  'twas  hope. 

But  why  excuse  the  misery  of  earth  ? 

Say  it  was  dismal,  cold,  and  dark,  and  deep, 

Beyond  the  utterance  of  strongest  words  ; 

But  say  that  none  remembered  it,  who  saw 

The  eye  of  beings  damned  for  evermore, 

Rolling,  and  rolling,  rolling  still  in  vain. 

To  find  some  ray,  to  see  beyond  the  gulf 

Of  an  unavenued,  fierce,  fiery,  hot, 

Interminable,  dark  Futurity  ! 

And  rolling  still,  and  rolling  still  in  vain ! 

Thus  stood  the  reprobate  beneath  the  shade 
Of  terror,  and  beneath  the  crown  of  love. 
The  good ;  and  there  was  silence  in  the  vault 
Of  heaven  ;  and  as  they  stood  and  listened,  they  heard 
Afar  to  left,  among  the  utter  dark. 
Hell  rolling  o'er  his  waves  of  burning  fire. 
And  thundering  through  his  caverns,  empty  then 
As  if  he  preparation  made,  to  act 
The  final  vengeance  of  the  fiery  Lamb, 
And  there  was  heard,  coming  from  out  the  Pit, 
The  hollow  wailing  of  Eternal  Death, 
And  horrid  cry  of  the  Undying  Worm. 

The  wicked  paler  turned,  and  scarce  the  good 
Their  colour  kept ;  but  were  not  long  dismayed. 
That  moment,  in  the  heavens,  how  wondrous  fair  ' 
The  angel  of  Mercy  stood,  and,  on  the  bad 
Turning  his  back,  over  the  ransomed  threw 
His  bow,  bedropped  with  imagery  of  love,  . 
And  promises  on  which  their  faith  reclined. 
Throughout,  deep,  breathless  silence  reigned  again  , 
And  on  the  circuit  of  the  upper  spheres, 
A  glorious  seraph  stood,  and  cried  aloud. 
That  every  ear  of  man  and  devil  heard, 


228  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

''  Him  that  is  filthy,  let  be  filthy  still ; 

Him  that  is  holy,  let  be  holy  still." 

And,  suddenly,  another  squadron  bright, 

Of  high  arch-angel  glory,  stooping,  brought 

A  marvellous  bow, — one  base  upon  the  Cross, 

The  other  on  the  shoulder  of  the  Bear, 

They    placed,— from    south    to    north,   spanning   the 

heavens. 
And  on  each  hand  dividing  good  and  bad, — 
Who  read,  on  either  side,  these  burning  words, 
Which  ran  along  the  arch  in  living  fire, 
And  wanted  not  to  be  believed  in  full : 
"  As  ye  have  sown,  so  shall  ye  reap  this  day.' 


"      or  THE        ^/ 

triVERSIT 


COURSE  OF 


BOOK  X. 


God  of  my  fathers !  holy,  just,  and  good  ? 
My  God  !  my  Father  !  my  unfailing  Hope  ! 
Jehovah  !  let  the  incense  of  my  praise, 
Accepted,  burn  before  thy  mercy  seat. 
And  in  thy  presence  burn,  both  day  and  night. 
Maker  !  Preserver  !  my  Redeemer  !  God  ! 
Whom  have  I  in  the  heavens  but  Thee  alone  r* 
On  earth,  but  Thee,  whom  should  I  praise,  whom  love  ' 
For  Thou  hast  brought  me  hitherto,  upheld 
By  thy  omnipotence  ;  and  from  thy  grace, 
Unbought,  unmerited,  though  not  unsought — 
The  wells  of  thy  salvation,  hast  refreshed 
My  spirit,  watering  it,  at  morn  and  even ; 
And,  by  thy  Spirit,  which  thou  freely  givest 
To  whom  thou  wilt,  hast  led  my  venturous  song, 
Over  the  vale  and  mountain  tract,  the  light 
And  shade  of  man ;  into  the  burning  deep 
Descending  now,  and  now  circling  the  mount, 
Where  highest  sits  Divinity  enthroned  ; 
Rolhng  along  the  tide  of  fluent  thought, 
The  tide  of  moral,  natural,  divine  ; 
Gazing  on  past  and  present,  and  again, 
On  rapid  pinion  borne,  outstripping  Time, 
In  long  excursion,  wandering  through  the  groves 
20 


230  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Unfading,  and  the  endless  avenues, 

That  shade  the  landscape  of  Eternity ; 

And  talking  there  with  holy  angels  met. 

And  future  men,  in  glorious  vision  seen  ! 

Nor  unrewarded  have  I  watched  at  night. 

And  heard  the  drowsy  sound  of  neighbouring  sleep 

New  thought,  new  imagery,  new  scenes  of  bliss 

And  glory,  unrehearsed  by  mortal  tongue, 

Which,  unrevealed,  I,  trembling,  turned  and  left, 

Bursting  at  once  upon  my  ravished  eye, — 

With  joy  unspeakable  have  filled  my  soul. 

And  made  my  cup  run  over  with  delight : 

Though  in  my  face  the  blasts  of  adverse  winds, 

While  boldly  circumnavigating  man, 

Winds  seeming  adverse,  though  perhaps  not  so. 

Have  beat  severely ;  disregarded  beat. 

When  I,  behind  me,  heard  the  voice  of  God, 

And  his  propitious  Spirit  say.  Fear  not ! 

God  of  my  fathers  !  ever  present  God  ! 
This  offering,  more,  inspire,  sustain,  accept ; 
Highest,  if  numbers  answer  to  the  theme ; 
Best  answering,  if  thy  Spirit  dictate  most. 
Jehovah !  breathe  upon  my  soul ;  my  heart 
Enlarge  ;  my  faith  increase  ;  increase  my  hope 
My  thoughts  exalt ;  my  fancy  sanctify. 
And  all  my  passions,  that  I  near  thy  throne 
May  venture,  unreproved  ;  and  sing  the  day. 
Which  none  unholy  ought  to  name,  the  Day 
Of  Judgment !  greatest  day,  passed  or  to  come  ! 
Day  !  which, — deny  me  what  thou  wilt,  deny 
Me  home,  or  friend,  or  honourable  name, — 
Thy  mercy  grant,  1,  thoroughly  prepared, 
With  comely  garment  of  redeeming  love. 
May  meet,  and  have  my  Judge  for  Advocate. 

Come,  Gracious  Influence,  Breath  of  the  Lord 
And  touch  mc  trembling,  as  thou  touched  the  man, 


BOOK  X. 


231 


Greatly  beloved,  when  he  in  vision  saw, 

By  Ulai's  stream,  the  Ancient  sit ;  and  talked 

With  Gabriel,  to  his  prayer  swiftly  sent. 

At  evening  sacrifice.     Hold  my  right  hand. 

Almighty  !  hear  me,  for  I  ask  through  Him, 

Whom  thou  hast  heard,  whom  thou  wilt  always  hear, 

Thy  Son,  our  interceding  Great  High  Priest ! 

Reveal  the  ftiture,  let  the  years  to  come 

Pass  by,  and  open  my  ear  to  hear  the  harp 

The  prophet  harp,  whose  wisdom  I  repeat, 

Interpreting  the  voice  of  distant  song  ; — 

Which  thus  again  resumes  the  lofty  verse, 

Loftiest,  if  I  interpret  faithfully 

The  holy  numbers  which  my  spirit  hears. 

Thus  came  the  day,  the  Harp  again  began, 
The  day  that  many  thought  should  never  come. 
That  all  the  wicked  wished  should  never  come, 
That  all  the  righteous  had  expected  long  ; 
Day  greatly  feared,  and  yet  too  little  feared. 
By  him  who  feared  it  most ;  day  laughed  at  much 
By  the  profane,  the  trembling  day  of  all 
Who  laughed;  day  when  all  shadows  passed,  all  dreams; 
When  substance,  when  reality  commenced; 
Last  day  of  lying,  final  day  of  all 
Deceit,  all  knavery,  all  quackish  phrase  ; 
Ender  of  all  disputing,  of  all  mirth 
Ungodly,  of  all  loud  and  boasting  speech  ; 
Judge  of  all  judgments,  Judge  of  every  judge, 
Adjuster  of  all  causes,  rights  and  wrongs ; 
Day  oft  appealed  to,  and  appealed  to  oft 
By  those  who  saw  its  dawn  with  saddest  heart ; 
Day  most  magnificent  in  Fancy's  range. 
Whence  she  returned,  confounded,  trembling,  pale, 
With  overmuch  of  glory  faint  and  blind  ; 
Day  most  important  held,  prepared  for  most, 
By  every  rational,  wise,  and  holy  man ; 
Day  of  eternal  gain,  for  worldly  loss ; 


232  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME.    ^ 

Day  of  eternal  loss,  for  worldly  gain  ; 

Great  day  of  terror,  vengeance,  wo,  despair ; 

Revealer  of  all  secrets,  thoughts,  desires; 

Rein-trying,  heart-investigating  day, 

That  stood  between  Eternity  and  Time, 

Reviewed  all  past,  determined  all  to  come, 

And  bound  all  destinies  for  evermore  ; 

Believing  day  of  unbelief;  great  day. 

That  set  in  proper  light  the  affairs  of  earth, 

And  justified  the  Government  Divine  ; 

Great  day ! — what  can  we  more?  what  should  we  more.'' 

Great  triumph  day  of  God's  incarnate  Son ! 

Great  day  of  glory  to  the  Almighty  God  ! 

Day  !  whence  the  everlasting  years  begin 

Their  date,  new  era  in  eternity. 

And  oft  referred  to  in  the  song  of  heaven ! 

Thus  stood  the  apostate,  thus  the  ransomed  stood, 
Those  held  by  justice  fast,  and  these  by  love, 
Reading  the  fiery  scutcheonry,  that  blazed 
On  high,  upon  the  great  celestial  bow  : 
*' As  ye  have  sown,  so  shall  ye  reap  this  day." 
All  read,  all  understood,  and  all  believed, 
Convinced  of  judgment,  righteousness,  and  sin. 


a 


Meantime  the  universe  throughout  was  still. 
The  cope,  above  and  round  about,  was  calm ; 
And  motionless,  beneath  them,  lay  the  Earth, 
Silent  and  sad,  as  one  that  sentence  waits. 
For  flagrant  crime  ; — when  suddenly  was  heard, 
Behind  the  azure  vaulting  of  the  sky, 
Above,  and  far  remote  from  reach  of  sight. 
The  sound  of  trumpets,  and  the  sound  of  crowds, 
And  prancing  steeds,  and  rapid  chariot  wheels. 
That  from  four  quarters  rolled,  and  seemed  in  haste, 
Assembling  at  some  place  of  rendezvous ; 
And  so  they  seemed  to  roll,  with  furious  speed, 
As  if  none  meant  to  be  behind  the  first. 


BOOK  X.  233 

Nor  seemed  alone  :  that  day,  the  golden  trump, 
Whose  voice,  from  centre  to  circumference 
Of  all  created  things,  is  heard  distinct, 
God  had  bid  Michael  sound,  to  summon  all 
The  hosts  of  bliss  to  presence  of  their  King  j 
And,  all  the  morning,  millions  infinite. 
That  millions  governed  each.  Dominions,  Powers, 
Thrones,  Principalities,  with  all  their  hosts, 
Had  been  arriving,  near  the  capital, 
And  royal  city.  New  Jerusalem, 

From  heaven's  remotest  bounds.    Nor  yet  from  heaven 
Alone  came  they,  that  day.     The  worlds  around, 
Or  neighbouring  nearest  on  the  verge  of  night, 
Emptied,  sent  forth  their  whole  inhabitants. 
All  tribes  of  being  came,  of  every  name, 
From  every  coast,  filling  Jehovah's  courts. 
From  morn  till  mid-day,  in  the  squadrons  poured 
Immense,  along  the  bright  celestial  roads. 
Swiftly  they  rode,  for  love  unspeakable. 
To  God,  and  to  Messiah,  Prince  of  Peace, 
Drew  them,  and  made  obedience  haste  to  be 
Approved.     And  now,  before  the  Eternal  Throne, — 
Brighter,  that  day,  than  when  the  Son  prepared 
To  overthrow  the  seraphim  rebelled, — 
And  circling  round  the  mount  of  Deity, 
Upon  the  sea  of  glass,  all  round  about. 
And  down  the  borders  of  the  stream  of  life. 
And  over  all  the  plains  of  Paradise, 
For  many  a  league  of  heavenly  measurement, — 
Assembled,  stood  the  immortal  multitudes. 
Millions,  above  all  number  infinite. 
The  nations  of  the  blessed.     Distinguished  each. 
By  chief  of  goodly  stature  blazing  far  ; 
By  various  garb,  and  flag  of  various  hue 
Streaming  through  heaven  from  standard  lifted  high — 
The  arms  and  imagery  of  thousand  worlds. 
Distinguished  each,  but  all  arrayed  complete. 
In  armour  bright,  of  helmet,  shield,  and  sword; 
20* 


THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  mounted  all  in  chariots  of  fire. 
A  military  throng,  blent,  not  confused ; 
As  soldiers  on  some  day  of  great  review, 
Burning  in  splendour  of  refulgent  gold. 
And  ornament,  on  purpose,  long  devised 
For  this  expected  day.     Distinguished  each, 
But  all  accoutred  as  became  their  Lord, 
And  high  occasion  ;  all  in  holiness, 
The  livery  of  the  soldiery  of  God, 
Vested  ;  and  shining  all  with  perfect  bliss, 
The  wages  that  his  faithful  servants  win. 

Thus  stood  they  numberless  around  the  mount 
Of  presence  ;  and,  adoring,  waited,  hushed 
In  deepest  silence,  for  the  voice  of  God. 
That  moment,  all  the  Sacred  Hill  on  high 
Burned,  terrible  with  glory,  and,  behind 
The  uncreated  lustre,  hid  the  Lamb, 
Invisible  ;  when,  from  the  radiant  cloud. 
This  voice,  addressing  all  the  hosts  of  heaven, 
Proceeded,  not  in  words  as  we*  converse, 
Each  with  his  fellow,  but  in  language  such 
As  God  doth  use,  imparting,  without  phrase 
Successive,  what,  in  speech  of  creatures,  seems 
Long  narrative,  though  long,  yet  losing  much 
iiln  feeble  symbols  of  the  thought  Divine. 

My  servants  long  approved,  my  faithful  sons, 
Angels  of  glory.  Thrones,  Dominions,  Powers, 
Well  pleased,  this  morning,  I  have  seen  the  speed 
Of  your  obedience,  gathering  round  my  throne, 
In  order  due,  and  well-becoming  garb  ; 
Illustrious,  as  I  see,  beyond  your  wont. 
As  was  my  wish,  to  glorify  this  day : 
■  And  now,  what  your  assembling  means,  attend. 

This  day  concludes  the  destiny  of  man. 
The  hour,  appointed  from  eternity. 


BOOK  X.  235 

To  judge  the  earth,  in  righteousness,  is  come ; 
To  end  the  war  of  Sin,  that  long  has  fought, 
Permitted,  against  the  sword  of  Holiness ; 
To  give  to  men  and  devils,  as  their  works, 
Recorded  in  my  all-remembering  book, 
I  find ;  good  to  the  good,  and  great  reward 
Of  everlasting  honour,  joy,  and  peace,  ^ 
Before  my  presence  here  for  evermore ; 
And  to  the  evil,  as  their  sins  provoke, 
Eternal  recompense  of  shame  and  wo, 
Cast  out  beyond  the  bounds  of  light  and  love. 

Long  have  I  stood,  as  ye,  my  sons,  well  know, 
Between  the  cherubim,  and  stretched  my  arms 
Of  mercy  out,  inviting  all  to  come 
To  me,  and  live ;  my  bowels  long  have  moved 
With  great  compassion ;  and  my  justice  passed 
Transgression  by,  and  not  imputed  sin. 
Long  here,  upon  my  everlasting  throne, 
I  have  beheld  my  love  and  mercy  scorned , 
Have  seen  my  laws  despised,  my  name  blasphemed. 
My  providence  accused,  my  gracious  plans 
Opposed  ;  and  long,  too  long,  have  I  beheld 
The  wicked  triumph,  and  my  saints  reproached 
Maliciously,  while  on  my  altars  lie, 
Unanswered  still,  their  prayers  and  their  tears, 
That  seek  my  coming,  wearied  with  delay ; 
And  long.  Disorder  in  my  moral  reign 
Has  walked  rebelliously,  disturbed  the  peace 
Of  my  eternal  government,  and  wrought 
Confusion,  spreading  far  and  wide,  among 
My  works  inferior,  which  groan  tobe 
Released.    Nor  long  shall  groan.     The  hour  of  grace, 
The  final  hour  of  grace,  is  fully  passed  ; 
The  time  accepted  for  repentance,  faith. 
And  pardon,  is  irrevocably  passed  ; 
And  Justice,  unaccompanied,  as  wont. 
With  Mercy,  now  goes  forth,  to  give  to  all 


236  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

According  to  their  deeds.    Justice  alone, — 

For  why  should  Mercy  any  more  be  joined? 

What  hath  not  mercy,  mixed  with  judgment  done, 

That  mercy,  mixed  with  judgment  and  reproof. 

Could  do  ?    Did  I  not  revelation  make, 

Plainly  and  clearly,  of  my  will  entire  ? 

Before  them  set  my  holy  law,  and  gave 

Them  knowledge,  wisdom,  prowess  to  obey. 

And  win,  by  self-wrought  works,  eternal  life  ? 

Rebelled,  did  I  not  send  them  terms  of  peace. 

Which,  not  my  justice,  but  my  mercy  asked  ? — 

Terms,  costly  to  my  well-beloved  Son  ; 

To  them,  gratuitous,  exacting  faith 

Alone  for  pardon,  works  evincing  faith  ? 

Have  I  not  early  risen,  and  sent  my  seers, 

Prophets,  apostles,  teachers,  ministers. 

With  signs  and  wonders,  working  in  my  name  ? 

Have  I  not  still,  from  age  to  age,  raised  up 

As  I  saw  needful,  great,  religious  men, 

Gifted  by  me  with  large  capacity, 

And  by  my  arm  omnipotent  upheld, 

To  pour  the  numbers  of  my  mercy  forth. 

And  roll  my  judgments  on  the  ear  of  man  ? 

And  lastly,  when  the  promised  hour  was  come, — 

What  more  could  most  abundant  mercy  do  ? — 

Did  I  not  send  Immanuel  forth,  my  Son, 

Only  begotten,  to  purchase,  by  his  blood. 

As  many  as  believed  upon  his  name  ? 

Did  he  not  die  to  give  repentance,  such 

As  I  accept,  and  pardon  of  all  sins  ? 

Has  he  not  taught,  beseeched,  and  shed  abroad 

The  Spirit  unconfined,  and  given  at  times 

Example  fierce  of  wrath  and  judgment,  poured 

Vindictively  on  nations  guilty  long  ? 

What  means  of  reformation,  that  my  Son 

Has  left  behind,  untried  ?  what  plainer  words. 

What  arguments  more  strong,  as  yet  remain  ? 

Did  he  not  tell  them,  with  his  lips  of  truth. 


BOOK  X.  237 

The  righteous  should  be  saved,  the  wicked  damned  ? 

And  has  he  not,  awake  both  day  and  night, 

Here  interceded  with  prevailing  voice, 

At  my  right  hand,  pleading  his  precious  blood 

Which  magnified  my  holy  law,  and  bought. 

For  all  who  wished,  perpetual  righteousness  ? 

And  have  not  you,  my  faithful  servants,  all 

Been  frequent  forth,  obedient  to  my  will, 

With  messages  of  mercy  and  of  love. 

Administering  my  gifts  to  sinful  man  ? 

And  have  not  all  my  mercy,  all  my  love, 

Been  sealed  and  stamped  with  signature  of  heaven.'' 

By  proof  of  wonders,  miracles,  and  signs 

Attested,  and  attested  more  by  truth 

Divine,  inherent  in  the  tidings  sent  ? 

This  day  declares  the  consequence  of  all. 

Some  have  believed,  are  sanctified,  and  saved, 

Prepared  for  dwelling  in  this  holy  place, 

In  these  their  mansions,  built  before  my  face ; 

And  now,  beneath  a  crown  of  golden  light, 

Beyond  our  wall,  at  place  of  judgment,  they, 

Expecting,  wait  the  promised,  due  reward. 

The  others  stand  with  Satan  bound  in  chains, 

The  others,  who  refused  to  be  redeemed  : 

They  stand,  unsanctified,  unpardoned,  sad. 

Waiting  the  sentence  that  shall  fix  their  wo. 

The  others,  who  refused  to  be  redeemed ; 

For  all  had  grace  sufficient  to  believe, 

All  who  my  gospel  heard  ;  and  none,  who  heard 

It  not,  shall  by  its  law,  this  day,  be  tried. 

Necessity  of  sinning,  my  decrees 

Imposed  on  none  ;  but  rather,  all  inclined 

To  holiness ;  and  grace  was  bountiful, 

Abundant,  overflowing  with  my  word  ; 

My  word  of  life  and  peace,  which  to  all  men, 

Who  shall  or  stand  or  fall,  by  law  revealed, 

Was  offered  freely,  as  'twas  freely  sent, 

Without  all  money,  and  without  ail  price. 


238  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME 

Thus  they  have  all,  by  willing  act,  despised 
Me,  and  my  Son,  and  sanctifying  Spirit. 
But  now,  no  longer  shall  they  mock  or  scorn. 
The  day  of  grace  and  mercy  is  complete, 
And  Godhead  from  their  misery  absolved. 

f'*    So  saying.  He,  the  Father  infinite, 
Turning,  addressed  Messiah,  where  he  sat, 
Exalted  gloriously,  at  his  right  hand. 
This  day  belongs  to  justice  and  to  thee, 
Eternal  Son,  thy  right  for  service  done, 
Abundantly  fulfilling  all  my  will ; 
By  promise  thine,  from  all  eternity, 
Made  in  the  ancient  Covenant  of  Grace  ; 
And  thine,  as  most  befitting,  since  in  thee 
Divine  and  human  meet,  impartial  Judge, 
Consulting  thus  the  interest  of  both. 
Go  then,  my  Son,  divine  similitude, 
Image  express  of  Deity  unseen, 
The  book  of  my  remembrance  take  ;  and  take 
The  golden  crowns  of  life,  due  to  the  saints  ; 
And  take  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous  ; 
Thy  armour  take  ;  gird  on  thy  sword,  thy  sword 
Of  justice  ultimate,  reserved,  till  now. 
Unsheathed,  in  the  eternal  armoury  ; 
And  mount  the  living  chariot  of  God. 
Thou  goest  not  now,  as  once,  to  Calvary, 
To  be  insulted,  buffeted,  and  slain; 
Thou  goest  not  now,  with  battle  and  the  voice 
Of  war,  as  once  against  the  rebel  hosts. 
Thou  goest  a  Judge,  and  findst  the  guilty  bound ; 
Thou  goest  to  prove,  condemn,  acquit,  reward. 
Not  unaccompanied  ;  all  these,  my  saints. 
Go  with  thee,  glorious  retinue,  to  sing 
Thy  triumph,  and  participate  thy  joy  ; 
And  I,  the  Omnipresent,  with  thee  go  ; 
And  with  thee  all  the  glory  of  my  throne. 


BOOK  X.  239 

Tlius  said  the  Father  ;  and  the  Son  beloved, 
Omnipotent,  Omniscient,  Fellow  God, 
Arose,  resplendent  with  Divinity  ; 
And  He  the  book  of  God's  remembrance  took  ; 
And  took  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous ; 
And  took  the  crowns  of  life,  due  to  the  saints; 
His  armour  took  ;   girt  on  his  sword,  his  sword 
Of  justice  ultimate,  reserved,  till  now, 
Unsheathed,  in  the  eternal  armoury  ; 
And  up  the  living  chariot  of  God 
Ascended,  signifying  all  complete. 

And  now  the  Trump,  of  wondrous  melody, 
By  man  or  angel  never  heard  before. 
Sounded  with  thunder,  and  the  march  began, 
Not  swifl,  as  cavalcade,  on  battle  bent, 
But,  as  became  procession  of  a  judge, 
Solemn,  magnificent,  majestic,  slow  ; 
Moving  sublime  with  glory  infinite, 
And  numbers  infinite,  and  awful  song, 
They  passed  the  gate  of  heaven,  which,  many  a  league, 
Opened  either  way,  to  let  the  glory  forth 
Of  this  great  march.     And  now,  the  sons  of  men 
Beheld  their  coining,  which,  before,  they  heard  ; 
Beheld  the  glorious  countenance  of  God  ! 
All  light  was  svallowed  up,  all  objects  seen 
Faded ;  and  the  Incarnate,  visible 
Alone,  held  every  eye  upon  him  fixed ; 
The  wicked  sa,v  his  majesty  severe  ; 
And  those  whc  pierced  Him  saw  his  face  with  clouds 
Of  glory  circled  round,  essential  bright ! 
And  to  the  rocks  and  mountains  called  in  vain, 
To  hide  them  from  the  fierceness  of  his  wrath  : 
Almighty  power  their  flight  restrained,  and  held 
Them  bound  inmovable  before  the  bar. 

The  righteous,  undismayed  and  bold, — best  proof, 
This  day,  offortitude  sincere, — sustained 


240  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

By  inward  faith,  with  acclamations  loud, 
Received  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  ; 
And,  drawn  by  love,  inclined  to  his  approach, 
Moving  to  meet  the  brightness  of  his  face. 

Meantime,  'tween  good  and  bad,  the  Judge  his  wheels 
Stayed,  and,  ascending,  sat  upon  the  great 
White  Throne,  that  morning  founded  there  by  power 
Omnipotent,  and  built  on  righteousness 
And  truth.     Behind,  before,  on  every  side, 
In  native  and  reflected  blaze  of  bright. 
Celestial  equipage,  the  myriads  stood. 
That  with  his  marching  came  ;  rank  above  rank, 
Rank  above  rank,  with  shield  and  flaming  sword. 

'Twas  silence  all !  and  quick,  on  right  and  left, 
A  mighty  angel  spread  the  book  of  God's 
Remembrance  ;  and,  with  conscience  now  sincere, 
All  men  compared  the  record,  written  there 
By  finger  of  Omniscience  ;  and  received 
Their  sentence,  in  themselves,  of  joy  or  wo  ; 
Condemned  or  justified,  while  yet  the  Judge 
Waited,  as  if  to  let  them  prove  themselves. 
The  righteous,  in  the  book  of  life  displayed. 
Rejoicing,  read  their  names  ;  rejoicing,  read 
Their  faith  for  righteousness  received,  and  deeds 
Of  holiness,  as  proof  of  faith  complete. 
The  wicked,  in  the  book  of  endless  death. 
Spread  out  to  left,  bewailing,  read  their  names ; 
And  read  beneath  them.  Unbelief,  and  fruit 
Of  unbelief,  vile,  unrepented  deeds, 
Now  unrepentable  for  evermore  ; 
And  gave  approval  of  the  wo  affixed. 

This  done,  the  Omnipotent,  Omniscient  Judge, 
Rose  infinite,  the  sentence  to  pronounce, 
The  sentence  of  eternal  wo  or  bliss ! 
All  glory  heretofore  seen  or  conceived, 


241 


All  majesty,  annihilated,  dropped, 

That  moment,  from  remembrance,  and  was  lost ; 

And  silence,  deepest  hitherto  esteemed, 

Seemed  noisy  to  the  stillness  of  this  hour. 

Comparisons  I  seek  not,  nor  should  find, 

If  sought.     That  silence,  which  all  being  held, 

When  God's  Almighty  Son,  from  off  the  walls 

Of  heaven  the  rebel  angels  threw,  accursed, 

So  still,  that  all  creation  heard  their  fall 

Distinctly,  in  the  lake  of  burning  fire, — 

Was  now  forgotten,  and  every  silence  else. 

All  being  rational,  created  then. 

Around  the  judgment  seat,  intensely  listened. 

No  creature  breathed.     Man,  angel,  devil,  stood 

And  listened  ;  the  spheres  stood  still,  and  every  star 

Stood  still,  and  listened  ;  and  every  particle, 

Remotest  in  the  womb  of  matter,  stood. 

Bending  to  hear,  devotional  and  still. 

And  thus  upon  the  wicked,  first,  the  Judge 

Pronounced  the  sentence,  written  before  of  old: 

''  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  the  fire, 

Prepared  eternal  in  the  Gulf  of  Hell, 

Where  ye  shall  weep  and  wail  for  evermore, 

Reaping  tho  harvest  which  your  sins  have  sown." 

So  saying,  God  grew  dark  with  utter  wrath  ; 
And,  drawing  now  the  sword,  undrawn  before. 
Which  through  the  range  of  infinite,  all  around, 
A  gleam  of  fiery  indignation  threw. 
He  lifled  up  his  hand  omnipotent. 
And  down  among  the  damned  the  burning  edge 
Plunged  ;  and  from  forth  his  arrowy  quiver  sent, 
Emptied,  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous. 
Which,  entering,  withered  all  their  souls  with  fire. 
Then  first  was  vengeance,  first  was  ruin  seen ! 
Red,  unrestrained,  vindictive,  final,  fierce  ! 
They,  howling,  fled  to  west  among  the  dark ; 
But  fled  not  these  the  terrors  of  the  Lord. 
21 


242  THE  COURSE    OF  TIME. 

Pursued,  and  driven  beyond  the  Gulf,  which  frowns 

Impassable,  between  the  good  and  bad. 

And  downward  far  remote  to  left,  oppressed 

And  scorched  with  the  avenging  fires,  begun 

Burning  within  them, — they  upon  the  verge 

Of  Erebus,  a  moment,  pausing  stood, 

And  saw,  below,  the  unfathomable  lake, 

Tossing  with  tides  of  dark,  tempestuous  wrath  ; 

And  would  have  looked  behind  ;  but  greater  wrath, 

Behind,  forbade,  which  now  no  respite  gave 

To  final  misery.     God,  in  the  grasp 

Of  his  Almighty  strength,  took  them  upraised, 

And  threw  them  down,  into  the  yawning  pit 

Of  bottomless  perdition,  ruined,  damned. 

Fast  bound  in  chains  of  darkness  evermore  ; 

And  Second  Death,  and  the  Undying  Worm, 

Opening  their  horrid  jaws,  with  hideous  yell, 

Falling,  received  their  everlasting  prey. 

A  groan  returned,  as  down  they  sunk,  and  sunk, 

And  ever  sunk,  among  the  utter  dark ' 

A  groan  returned  !  the  righteous  heard  the  groan, 

The  groan  of  all  the  reprobate,  when  first 

They  felt  damnation  sure  !  and  heard  Hell  close  ! 

And  heard  Jehovah,  and  his  love  retire  ! 

A  groan  returned  !  the  righteous  heard  the  groan, 

As  if  all  misery,  all  sorrow,  grief. 

All  pain,  all  anguish,  all  despair,  which  all 

Have  suffered,  or  shall  feel,  from  first  to  last 

Eternity,  had  gathered  to  one  pang. 

And  issued  in  one  groan  of  boundless  wo  I 

/   And  now  the  wall  of  hell,  the  outer  wall. 
First  gateless  then,  closed  round  them  ;  that  which  thou 
Hast  seen,  of  fiery  adamant,  emblazed 
With  hideous  imagery,  above  all  hope. 
Above  all  flight  of  fancy,  burning  high  , 
And  guarded  evermore,  by  Justice,  turned 
To  Wrath,  that  hears,  unmoved,  the  endless  groan 


BOOK  X.  243 

Of  those  wasting  within ;  and  sees,  unmoved, 
The  endless  tear  of  vain  repentance  fall. 

Nor  ask  if  these  shall  ever  be  redeemed. 
They  never  shall !     Not  God,  but  their  own  sin, 
Condemns  them.    What  could  be  done,  as  thou  hast 

heard. 
Has  been  already  done ;  all  has  been  tried, 
That  wisdom  infinite,  and  boundless  grace. 
Working  together,  could  devise  ;  and  all 
Has  failed.     Why  now  succeed  ?     Though  God  should 

stoop. 
Inviting  still,  and  send  his  Only  Son 
To  offer  grace  in  hell,  the  pride,  that  first 
Refused,  would  still  refuse  ;  the  unbelief. 
Still  unbelieving,  would  deride  and  mock ; 
Nay  more,  refuse,  deride,  and  mock  ;  for  sin, 
Increasing  still,  and  growing,  day  and  night, 
Into  the  essence  of  the  soul,  become 
All  sin,  makes  what  in  time  seemed  probable, — 
Seemed  probable,  since  God  invited  then, — 
For  ever  now  impossible.     Thus  they. 
According  to  the  eternal  laws  which  bind 
All  creatures,  bind  the  Uncreated  One, 
Though  we  name  not  the  sentence  of  the  Judge, — 
Must  daily  grow  in  sin  and  punishment. 
Made  by  themselves  their  necessary  lot, 
Unchangeable  to  all  eternity. 

What  lot !  what  choice  !  I  sing  not,  cannot  sing. 
Here,  highest  seraphs  tremble  on  the  lyre. 
And  make  a  sudden  pause  ! — but  thou  hast  seen. 
And  here,  the  bard,  a  moment,  held  his  hand, 
As  one  who  saw  more  of  that  horrid  wo 
Than  words  could  utter  ;  and  again  resumed. 

Nor  yet  had  vengeance  done.    The  guilty  Earth, 
Inanimate,  debased,  and  stained  by  sin. 


244  THE    COURSE    OF    TIME. 

Seat  of  rebellion,  of  corruption,  long, 

And  tainted  with  mortality  throughout, — 

God  sentenced  next ;  and  sent  the  final  fires 

Of  ruin  forth,  to  burn  and  to  destroy. 

The  saints  its  burning  saw,  and  thou  mayst  see. 

Look  yonder,  round  the  lofty  golden  walls 

And  galleries  of  New  Jerusalem, 

Among  the  imagery  of  wonders  passed ; 

Look  near  the  southern  gate  ;  look,  and  behold — 

On  spacious  canvass,  touched  with  living  hues — 

The  Conflagration  of  the  ancient  earth, 

The  handiwork  of  high  archangel,  drawn 

From  memory  of  what  he  saw,  that  day. 

See  !  how  the  mountains,  how  the  valleys  burn, 

The  Andes  burn,  the  Alps,  the  Apennines, 

Taurus  and  Atlas  )  all  the  islands  burn  ; 

The  Ocean  burns,  and  rolls  his  waves  of  flame. 

See  how  the  lightnings,  barbed,  red  with  wrath, 

Sent  from  the  quiver  of  Omnipotence, 

Cross  and  recross  the  fiery  gloom,  and  burn 

Into  the  centre ! — burn  without,  within, 

And  help  the  native  fires,  which  God  awoke. 

And  kindled  with  the  fury  of  his  wrath. 

As  inly  troubled,  now  she  seems  to  shake  ; 

The  flames,  dividing,  now  a  moment,  fall ; 

And  now,  in  one  conglomerated  mass. 

Rising,  they  glow  on  high,  prodigious  blaze  ! 

Then  fall  and  sink  again,  as  if,  within, 

The  fuel,  burned  to  ashes,  was  consumed. 

So  burned  the  Earth  upon  that  dreadful  day, 

Yet  not  to  full  annihilation  burned. 

The  essential  particles  of  dust  remained, 

Purged  by  the  final,  sanctifying  fires. 

From  all  corruption  ;  from  all  stain  of  sin, 

Done  there  by  man  or  devil,  purified. 

The  essential  particles  remained,  of  which 

God  built  the  world  again,  renewed,  improved, 

With  fertile  vale,  and  wood  of  fertile  bough ; 


BOOK  X.  245 

And  streams  of  milk  and  honey,  flowing  song; 
And  mountains  cinctured  with  perpetual  green  ; 
In  clime  and  season  fruitful,  as  at  first, 
When  Adam  woke,  unfallen,  in  Paradise. 
And  God,  from  out  the  fount  of  native  light, 
A  handful  took  of  beams,  and  clad  the  sun 
Again  in  glory  ;  and  sent  forth  the  moon 
To  borrow  thence  her  wonted  rays,  and  lead 
Her  stars,  the  virgin  daughters  of  the  sky. 
And  God  revived  the  winds,  revived  the  tides ; 
And  touching  her  from  his  Almighty  hand, 
With  force  centrifugal,  she  onward  ran. 
Coursing  her  wonted  path,  to  stop  no  more. 
Delightful  scene  of  new  inhabitants ! 
As  thou,  this  mom,  in  passing  hither,  sawst. 


Thus  done,  the  glorious  Judge,  turning  to  right, 
With  countenance  of  love  unspeakable, 
Beheld  the  righteous,  and  approved  them  thus : 
"  Ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  come,  ye  just, 
Enter  the  joy  eternal  of  your  Lord  ; 
Receive  your  crowns,  ascend,  and  sit  with  me, 
»At  God's  right  hand,  in  glory  evermore  !" 

Thus  said  the  Omnipotent,  Incarnate  God ; 
And  waited  not  the  homage  of  the  crowns, 
Already  thrown  before  him ;  nor  the  loud 
Amen  of  universal,  holy  praise  ; 
But  turned  the  living  chariot  of  fire. 
And  swifter  now, — as  joyful  to  declare 
This  day's  proceedings  in  his  Father's  court, 
And  to  present  the  number  of  his  sons 
Before  the  Throne, — ascended  up  to  heavei%v 
And  all  his  saints,  and  all  his  angel  bands, 
As,  glorious,  they  on  high  ascended,  sung 
Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb ! — they  sung 
Messiah,  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men. 
And  altogether  lovely.     Grace  is  poured 


246  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME, 

Into  thy  lips,  above  all  measure  poured ; 

And  therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  evermore. 

Gird,  gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  O  thou 

Most  Mighty !  with  thy  glory  ride  ;  with  all 

Thy  majesty,  ride  prosperously,  because 

Of  meekness,  truth,  and  righteousness.     Thy  throne, 

O  God,  for  ever  and  for  ever  stands  ; 

The  sceptre  of  thy  kingdom  still  is  right ; 

Therefore  hath  God,  thy  God,  anointed  thee, 

With  oil  of  gladness  and  perfumes  of  myrrh, 

Out  of  the  ivory  palaces,  above 

Thy  fellows,  crowned  the  Prince  of  endless  peace  ! 

Thus  sung  they  God,  their  Saviour  :  and  themselves 
Prepared  complete  to  enter  now,  with  Christ, 
Their  living  Head,  into  the  Holy  Place. 
Behold  !  the  daughter  of  the  King,  the  bride, 
All  glorious  within,  the  bride  adorned. 
Comely  in  broidery  of  gold  !  behold. 
She  comes,  apparelled  royally,  in  robes 
Of  perfect  righteousness,  fair  as  the  sun, 
With  all  her  virgins,  her  companions  fair, — 
Into  the  Palace  of  the  King  she  comes, 
She  comes  to  dwell  for  evermore  !    Awake, 
Eternal  harps !  awake,  awake,  and  sing  ! — 
The  Lord,  the  Lord,  our  God  Almighty,  reigns ! 

Thus  the  Messiah,  with  the  hosts  of  bliss. 
Entered  the  gates  of  heaven,  unquestioned  now, 
Which  closed  behind  them,  to  go  out  no  more  ; 
And  stood,  accepted,  in  his  Father's  sight ; 
Before  the  glorious,  everlasting  Throne, 
Presenting  all  his  saints  ;  not  one  was  lost, 
Of  all  that  he  in  Covenant  received ; 
And,  having  given  the  kingdom  up,  he  sat. 
Where  now  he  sits  and  reigns,  on  the  right  hand 
Of  glory ;  and  our  God  is  all  in  all ! 


247 


Thus  have  I  sung  beyond  thy  first  request, 
Rolhng  my  numbers  o'er  the  track  of  man, 
The  world  at  dawn,  at  mid-day,  and  decHne ; 
Time  gone,  the  righteous  saved,  the  wicked  damned, 
And  God's  eternal  government  approved. 


THE  END. 


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